Fumbling Towards Ecstasy
by Binx12
Summary: Everyone falls. Peter just doesn't do it gracefully. Peter/OC -Sequel on the way!
1. A Simple Touch Will Do

_Here is just a short little moment to kick the story off. Everything starts in Chapter 1. This story will incorporate pieces of the movie and pieces of the book. I promise if you are a big fan of the books, you will notice specific things that come directly from C.S. Lewis. _

_This begins after the kids have found what if left of Cair Paravel, right when they are leaving the treasure chamber._

_Disclaimer-I do not own Narnia or any of the characters created by Lewis. I just like to play in his world._

_Enjoy and please leave a review!_

Fumbling Towards Ecstasy

Prologue

As Peter followed Ed towards the stone staircase, a glimmer caught his attention. The light from Ed's electric torch illuminated a darkened corner that none of the children noticed before. "Wait a tick, Ed," Peter said, as he walked towards the corner.

"I don't recognize that," Susan added from the bottom of the staircase, for both girls now noticed the glimmer too.

"No," Lucy responded, "but she is quite beautiful." Shining in the light was a statue. Her carved hair fell down her back in waves of stone. One hand stretched out before her, while the other clutched the fabric of her dress. Her non-seeing eyes followed the line of her hand, both wanting something just out of reach.

"By jolly, I wonder where she came from," Ed said as he reached out and let his hand graze the cold stone of her face. Possessive anxiety bubbled in Peter's chest as he watched his brother. With a frown he shook his head and turned away from Edmund, his eyes closed tight in an attempt to rid his mind of the new, strange thoughts.

"We really should be getting to bed," Susan said in a motherly tone as Lucy stifled a yawn beside her.

"True enough," responded Ed, and the three siblings turned and once again headed for the stairs leaving the High King alone in the dark with his eyes still shut tight. Noticing the new found silence, Peter slowly opened his eyes and turned back towards the statue. As he stood before her, the strangest feeling began to burn within him. He cast his gaze down her petite figure, taking in every aspect of her body. Her eyes seemed to stare directly into his, and her outreached hand was nearly touching his warm cheek. Peter's pulse quickened as the desire to run his hand along her stone torso grew, but the silliness of it caused him to keep his hand securely at his side.

"You coming, Pete?" Ed's voice called down. The strange burning left Peter as quickly as it came, and giving the statue one last glance, Peter turned on his heal and headed for the stairs. Hopefully things would work themselves out in the morning

_And so it begins..._

Chapter 1

A Simple Touch Will Do

Luckily for Peter, he would not have to wait for the morning. The cold, hard ground beneath him and clear sky above him made it nearly impossible to fall asleep. His mind refused to settle as he stared at the endless see of midnight blue and gold. It was her. Although she was nothing more that a block of solid stone carved beautifully by the hand of a loving craftsman, the twitch of her worried lips and the blankness of her eyes floated through Peter's mind like a soft lullaby that he recalled, yet could not place. Even the stars he gazed up at seemed to morph themselves into her silhouette.

Finding the sky frustrating, Peter turned on his side and stared at the dark corridor that led to the treasure chamber. For a few short moments his mind seemed to calm, but as his eyes focused steadily upon the staircase before him, Peter's heart and stomach twitched in excited anxiety.

Something was calling to him.

Peter couldn't tell if it was the wind or his mind whispering his name and pulling at his clothes, but his eyes became transfixed by the stairwell and his ears only heard the call of a soft voice. Quietly, Peter rose to his feet, each step bringing him closer to the corridor. He quickly reached the stairs, but the darkness that surrounded it was complete. Remembering Ed's electric torch, Peter turned quickly to his brother and searched his person with hungry eyes. The torch was securely clutched in Edmund's hand. With careful steps, Peter approached his brother and slowly wiggled the small flashlight from Edmund's grasp. Thanking Aslan that Edmund was a heavy sleeper, Peter carefully made his way back to the stairwell and began to descend.

The light found her immediately, making her cold stone glow eerily in the otherwise dark chamber. Peter's eyes were transfixed as he stepped onto the flat, dirt covered floor; the noise echoing softly as his shoes crunched the debris beneath them. With a shaking hand Peter set the electric torch upon the ground, its light illuminating the statue from below creating a mask of shadows across her face. Unsure of what to do, Peter stood just outside of the light and rubbed his sweaty palms across the fabric of his pants. Although the voice was now silenced, energy formed around his body and propelled him forward. Lacking the strength to fight it, Peter stepped into the light.

He reached the statue quickly; her stony form now only inches from his finger tips. As a ragged breath escaped Peter's lips, the energy that now consumed him moved his hand steady towards her. Carefully, Peter placed the tips of his fingers upon the would-be flesh of her hand.

The stone warmed instantly.

Peter's heart was filled with a renewed confidence as his palm grazed up her arm and towards her face, the stone no longer cold under his skin. With the gentleness of a lover, Peter allowed his hand to slip across her chiseled cheek and onto her lips.

Feeling the warmth of breath pass over his fingers, Peter whipped his hand away. He stared at the statue, which was still as hard and silent as before. With a pounding heart, Peter slowly approached the statue again. He stopped when the palm of her outstretched hand cupped his burning cheek. The cold stone turned to warmth, and skin met skin. Shaken by the sudden contact, Peter placed his large palm over the hand that touched his cheek. It was warm—alive. The soft, delicate hand bent under the pressure of his calloused, strong one, pushing its warmth deeper into his skin. His heart swelled at the feeling.

With a burning excitement, Peter touched the cheek of the statue with his free hand. Peachy warmth spread from his finger tips and encompassed the cold stone. Allowing his hand to slip from his cheek, Peter's now shaking palm rubbed down the length of her arm, the blue fabric of her gown following directly behind it. Like a plague of life, color and warmth spread over the statue with vibrant speed. Soon Peter found himself standing before the figure of a young woman, her hand still reaching and her eyes still glossed over.

Without warning her hand dropped to her side and her body collapsed. Peter barely grabbed her before she hit the dirt covered floor. With little difficulty, Peter lowered her to the ground, and cradled her head in the crook of this right arm. Unsure of what to do, he lightly tapped her cheek. The girl offered no response, so he gradually added more pressure to his taps. A smile covered his face when her pupils contracted slightly before becoming quite large due to the lack of light. Peter waited as the girl closed and opened her eyes quickly, trying to focus on the smiling face before her. Finally, her brown eyes locked with his, and a moment of complete peace moved through the room.

Then she screamed.

Peter recoiled at the sudden outburst and tried to avoid her now flailing arms. In her struggle to get free, the girl's elbow connected directly with his nose, which immediately began to fill with blood. Both of Peter's hands went to his pounding face, causing him to lose balance and tip backwards. He yelled in pain as his head came into contact with the hard wall. Peter's right hand left his nose and reached to the back of his head, which was now sporting a lovely lump.

"Get off me you insolent creep!" the girl yelled as she attempted to make it to her feet, but the hem of her gown was securely stuck under Peter's shoe. Peter's head began to pounded from his injuries and the young woman's incessant screaming. He growned in response.

"Aslan!" she yelled. "Telmarines are in the castle! Boregard! Duddlebeard! Someone!"

"Be quiet!" Peter responded through his blood soaked hand. "I'm not trying to hurt you. I just…I just brought you to life!" Attempting to calm the girl, Peter made a grab for her hands, but this only caused her to fall backwards as she tried to escape him. Finally, she found herself completely free, the ripped hem of her dress still securely under Peter's shoe. Peter watched as she struggled to her feet and disappeared into the darkness. Moments later she appeared before him with a sword clutched tightly in her hand.

"Move and I shall run you threw," she said quietly, her eyes fixed intensely on Peter. Putting his hands in the air to show he was unarmed, Peter slowly made his way to his feet.

"What is your name?" the girl asked; her sword now pointed directly at Peter's chest. "Speak quickly. I have no patience for Telmarines." Peter pinched the bridge of his nose, and squeezed his eyes shut. Part of him wished he was back on the cold ground and the girl was still a statue.

"I am Peter. Peter Pevensie, and I am most definitely not a Telmarine. Will you please put the sword down?" Peter responded as he looked with disgust at the blood that now covered the tips of his fingers. Grimacing, he attempted to breath out of his clogged, throbbing nose.

"I am not that foolish," she responded with an air of superiority.

"I order you to put the sword down," Peter commanded as he ended the examination of his nose and looked the girl directly in the eyes.

"_Order_ me?" she questioned in a mocking tone.

"Yes, I order you. As High King of Narnia, I _order_ you to put the bloody sword down." The girl faltered at his words, giving Peter the perfect moment to lunge towards her. In one swift move the sword was across the room, and the girl's arms were pinned tightly to her side.

"How dare you," she said through clenched teeth. Peter held her tighter as she began to struggle, her back pressed securely to his chest. He couldn't help but notice that her dark hair smelled of vanilla and roses.

This is the state that Peter's very sleepy, very confused siblings found him in. Edmund's electric torch was forgotten in the corner, while Peter's arms were wrapped tightly around the waist of an awfully unhappy young woman. Only to add to the situation's absurdity, Peter's nose was planted directly between the girl's shoulder and neck, where he seemed to be quite content to simply breathe deeply.

"Peter?" Lucy questioned, for she seemed to be the only one not shocked enough to say something. Peter's head immediately shot up at his sister's voice, and his arms not only dropped from the girl's waist, but they quickly pushed her away.

"What is this about, Peter?" Susan finally said as she stepped down from the sixteenth stair and headed for the girl.

"Stay away from me," the girl said to Susan, who, wearing a look of complete dejection, stopped walking.

"Really, I'm just trying to help you," Susan replied to the girl, then looking at her siblings, "Some people truly are rude."

"She isn't rude, Susan," Peter interjected as his sister began to criticize the new girl, "she is probably scared."

"Scared? Peter your face is covered in blood. I truly do not think someone who is simply _scared_ would be able to inflict such brutal damage in such a short period of time. Furthermore, when I was merely trying to be nice, she shot a very harsh remark back at me, which—"

"Susan, honestly you are being quite silly," Edmund said cutting off his sister in the middle of her rant, which caused her face to change a lovely shade of light red. "We did come down at an awkward moment, and we have little clue what happened before. Peter would scare anyone." At this Peter turned to Edmund wearing a scowl, blood still clinging to parts of his face and hands.

"And what do you mean by that? I have never done anything that is remotely scary to anybody." Peter quickly fell into a rant much like his sister's, explaining how he was a perfect gentleman to the girl, and never did any little thing to harm her. Edmund continued to throw harsh blows to his brother's pride—unintentionally, of course—while Susan carried on her earlier speech on the rudeness of their visitor. While all of this was going on, Lucy glanced at the girl in question, who was standing with her back to the dusty wall watching Peter intently. She observed instantly that the girl sported a remarkable resemblance to the statue they noticed earlier.

"You're her!" Lucy said suddenly, causing her three siblings and the girl to look at her attentively.

"Who?" Edmund asked his sister. Peter shifted uncomfortably beside him. He had hoped that no one would notice that statue missing from the corner, for explaining how exactly she came to life would prove to be awkward.

"She is the statue. The one from the corner. The one none of us had ever seen before," Lucy explained rather excitedly. Peter's hand once again grasped the bridge of his nose. _Why does she have to notice everything_ he thought to himself. Susan glanced at the corner where they saw the statue hours earlier. Nothing was there except for the light of Edmund's forgotten electric torch.

"How does a statue just spring to life?" asked Susan with a confused scowl.

"Well, if this is Narnia, something such as that _would_ be possible," explained Edmund, obvious excitement filling his voice.

"Why don't we ask her?" suggested Lucy.

"She is a statue," countered Susan.

"Not anymore," Edmund added.

"Well I would rather like to know _how_ exactly she came to life," Susan responded and looked accusingly at Peter, whose hand was still securely clutching the bridge of his nose. At this silence filled the room, and Peter found all eyes focused on him. After shifting uncomfortably for a few moments, Peter replied. "I just touched her."

"Why were you touching a statue?" Lucy questioned. "In the middle of the night?"

Peter did not have an answer for this, at least not one that his siblings would understand, so he chose to quickly change the subject. "We need to decide what to do with her."

"What do you suggest?" asked Edmund.

"Well, she does seem to be rather hostile. Perhaps we should tie her up," Peter responded while glancing at the drying blood on his hand.

"You most certainly will not tie me up," the girl said suddenly, causing all Pevensies to jump slightly. They had quite nearly forgotten that she was actually there.

"That is a little silly, Peter," said Susan.

"Silly? You were the one accusing her of being rude only moments ago," Peter responded.

"I have a better idea," said Lucy. "Why don't we simply ask her who she is?" Seeming to like the idea, the three other Pevensies turned their eyes toward the girl.

"Well…?" asked Peter after a moment of silence. "Who are you?"

The girl glanced quickly between the four siblings. She seemed unsure if she should answer, but after a long moment, the girl lifted her head higher and looked Peter square in the eyes. "I am Cara Noor," she responded. "High Queen of Narnia."


	2. Just As Confused as Everyone Else

Chapter 2

Just as Confused as Everyone Else

"When did you get married?" Edmund asked Peter with a look of confusion.

"I didn't!" Peter responded; his voice filled with disgust. "And I most certainly would have invited you if I had."

"Then how can she be the High Queen?" asked Susan.

"I'm quite sure that there is a reasonable explanation for this," added Lucy, whose eyes were gleaming with joy at Cara. The entire situation _was_ very exciting.

"Well," started Peter, "I for one would like to hear it." Soon the remaining Pevensies agreed and all eyes once again fell on Cara. She looked back at them with defiance.

"It is only fair that you four offer your names in return," she responded coldly.

"I suppose that is the proper thing to do," said Edmund. "I am King Edmund the Just."

"And I am Queen Lucy the Valiant," Lucy piped in.

"Queen Susan," Susan said with a small curtsy, "the Gentle."

Peter stepped forward, his face still covered in drying blood. Cara watched as a change past over him. He stood taller, with his chin high and his eyes steady. "I am High King Peter the Mag-"

"Magnificent," Cara finished for him. "The bringers of the Golden Age left this land hundreds of years ago, how am I to believe that you are truly them?" she questioned, the expression on her face a mix of apprehension and disbelief.

"Hundreds of years ago?" Lucy asked as she glanced around at her siblings. "But it seems like just yesterday."

"It practically was for us, Lu," responded Susan, her face suddenly looking dejected and tired. "The times between the two worlds must be different."

"Well I already figured that," added Edmund.

Cara watched as the four Pevensies calculated and collaborated as they tried to figure the time period that had passed in Narnia. It was easy to tell that although each sibling was an individual, all four worked well together, each adding a piece of his or her unique perspective. Susan questioned everything; always wanting the answer that seemed most reasonable, while Lucy, whom had the carefree mind of a child, derived her answers from the blatant facts, whether or not they led to any sort of logic. Edmund tended to be the peace keeper in the group. He managed to take everyone's ideas into account before coming to a decision. Peter mainly watched, only speaking at the end of every dispute, for his answer was the final one. As Cara watched them, she began to see glimpses of their greatness, and the Kings and Queens that they once were broke through their childish core. Although she hated to admit it, the four children in front of her did resemble the paintings and statues that decorated Cair Paravel. _Is it possible?_ she thought to herself.

"I believe you," Cara said suddenly, causing Peter, who was currently talking, to stop. "I believe you were sent to aid me, and I am grateful for the assistance, but we must hurry. The Telmarines are approaching our shores quickly."

"The Telmarines?" questioned Edmund. "In Narnia?"

"Yes. Come I will show you their ships." Cara quickly darted past the Pevensies and ascended the stairs that led out of the treasure chamber. Peter swiftly followed after her, with Edmund, Susan, and Lucy not far behind. When they finally reached the top of the stairs, they found Cara standing with a dumbfounded expression between two trees. Rubble and grass lay at her feet, while the clear night sky glowed above her. Peter quietly stepped up beside her.

"Not what you expected?" he asked. Cara made no response. Instead she continued to glance around the former throne room of Cair Paravel.

"It seems we aren't the only ones not quite certain about the date," Edmund said after a few minutes of silence.

"You were a statue," Peter added. "It is possible that you were closed in the treasure chamber for quite some time."

"Why would he do this to me?" Cara asked softly. Her eyes continued to take in the rubble surrounding her, pain shown clearly on her face. "They needed me."

"Who?" asked Susan. Cara turned to look at the dark haired Queen.

"My people—your people. The Narnian's. Can you not tell what these boulders are?" Cara answered, her arm swept out before her as she gestured to the mounds of broken stone. The Pevensies looked around as well, but only Edmund seemed to grasp what she was saying.

"They are rocks for catapults," answered Edmund. Cara looked at him and nodded.

"But what does that mean?" asked Lucy, her voice quivering slightly as she small arms wrapped themselves tightly around her body.

"It means Cair Paravel was attacked," said Peter, his voice grave.

"But why would anyone attack Cair Paravel," asked Susan. "We were quite nice to everyone."

"I think that Cara should fill us in on some things, or at least what she can. Maybe then we can make sense of all this," said Edmund. Peter and the three Queens agreed that this was best, for none were tired any longer. Edmund and Peter took a few minutes to rekindle the fire, while the girls arranged themselves around it for warmth. Soon the boys joined them, and Cara began the tale of her life.

"I was born in the year one thousand, nine hundred and eighty. Cair Paravel lay empty; the four thrones abandoned hundreds of years earlier. A few Kings and Queens had attempted to rule the people of Narnia after the disappearance of the Four, but the Golden Age was as far gone as it is now. I lived with a family of centaurs until the age of ten, for the whereabouts of my family was never known. When Aslan deemed me old enough, he came to me in a dream. The Great Lion told me of my future, and the destiny that I had to fulfill. Cair Paravel was slowly being taken over by Telmarines. The woods of Narnia were infested with human filth; the talking beasts pushed from their land. With the help of the centaurs, I gathered together an army, and with little difficulty we took back Cair Paravel and the surrounding woods. At the age of twelve Aslan crowned me High Queen of Narnia and I found myself sitting on a thrown in the Great Hall of Cair Paravel.

"Narnia found peace again, but it was only for a short time. The Telmarines wanted our land and would do anything in their power to have it. War broke in the year one thousand, nine hundred and ninety six. Without a King to lead Narnia into battle, I was forced to do so. We were successful, winning every skirmish over the two years that followed. It was a dull morning when they came; fog rolled in from the sea, and with it came hundreds of Telmarine ships. I gave the order to ready for battle when Aslan came to me. He told me that death was approaching and that my time had not yet come. His breath hit me, and that was the last thing I remember. That is until I awoke in Peter's arms."

The end of Cara's tale was met by silence. Each Pevensie seemed to be absorbing the story differently. The anger of Peter's face was illuminated by the dancing flames of the fire, while Edmund simply looked deep in thought. Both young Queens seemed as if they could cry.

Lucy was the first to speak. "Everything—everyone we ever knew is gone. I wasn't expecting Narnia to be like this when we returned."

"Things generally aren't as you expect them, Lu," Peter said softly. "But we are here now, and we can do something about this."

"What can we do, Peter? We don't ever know how long it has been since our reign," said Susan, tears swimming in her eyes.

"Well," started Edmund. "We do know when Cara ruled, which was over nine hundred years after us, and by the look of Cair Paravel, it's been a few hundred years since the attack. I'd say we are anywhere between one thousand and fifteen hundred years since the Golden Age."

"And where does that get us?" asked Susan angrily. "We still don't know what's going on."

"What we do know, is that we need to get off this island," said Peter as he tossed another stick into the fire causing the flames to shoot higher into the air and crackle excitedly.

"Island?" asked Cara, her forehead scowled in confusion. Peter quickly explained that Cair Paravel was now its own island, which further proved the time gap between the past and the present.

Silence followed once again, all occupants engulfed in their own thoughts. Cara stared into the bright flames, memories of her past moving in her mind. She felt as if she failed the past Kings and Queens that sat beside her, even though none had claimed such things. During Peter's reign, complete peace spread through the land; peace that she was unable to bestow upon the Narnians.

"It seems we are the last awake." Cara's eyes left the flames and searched out the owner of the voice. Peter glanced back at her with tired eyes. Blood still coated parts of his face.

"Oh dear," Cara responded, her hands searching for the ripped part of her dress. Finding it, she tore off another strip and disappeared into the woods. Peter watched in confusion as she retuned holding the now dripping cloth.

"For your face," she said softly and handed Peter the piece of her dress. He thanked her and began to rub the cold water over his nose and chin.

"I do apologize for that," she said after finding her seat once again.

"It's quite alright," responded Peter. "I can imagine waking up after hundreds of years in the arms of a stranger is rather daunting." Cara chuckled softly at this, which caused Peter to smile in return.

Peter watched as Cara returned her eyes to the flames, the smile now gone from her face. Her dark hair lay wavy and full down her back, small pieces of dust and leaves tangled in its layers.

"How did I come to life?" Cara said as she glanced at Peter. Suddenly, her bright brown eyes seemed very scrutinizing to Peter, and a blush spread through his body.

"Well, I. Um. Well," Peter mumbled, trying to find the words.

"You mentioned to Queen Susan that you touched me," Cara added in a challenging tone.

"More or less," Peter responded, his eyes never leaving the fire.

"That's all very strange," Cara replied as she watched Peter's forehead wrinkle into a frown.

"Indeed."


	3. Apples, Dwarves, and Fish

Apples, Dwarves, and Fish

Peter awoke the next day with a swollen nose and an aching back. The sun lay low on the horizon; the air still cool and damp. After a moment of intense stretching, Peter rose to his feet and looked around. There were no sounds except for the soft swooshing of the waves and the call of a few distant birds. Edmund and Susan slept peacefully beside the smoldering embers of the fire, but Cara and Lucy were nowhere to be found.

Enjoying the calming silence, Peter grabbed an apple and found a comfortable spot on the edge of a boulder. The sea breeze cooled his neck and face; the smell enveloping every part of his being. He was back. He was home. He was High King again. Although the landscape around him was a far call from the world he remembered, this land was still Narnia. Already Peter felt stronger—older. The man that he used to be came closer to the surface of his skin as the hours past. Soon he would be who he once was. He could feel it.

"Oh I do wish that we had a boat." Peter turned his head at the sound of his younger sister's voice. Coming up a small path between two large apple trees were Cara and Lucy, both adorned in Narnian traveling dresses. Cara's hair was wild and free; the breeze causing it to whip in her face. Lucy's cordial and dagger were securely strapped to her side where they always found themselves when she was Queen Lucy the Valiant. The Narnian air seemed to be feeing her lungs with more than oxygen as well.

"We must make due with what we have, young Queen," came Cara's reply. "Oh," she said as she came around the bend and saw Peter, his back to a boulder and a half eaten apple in his hand. "Good morning, Peter," Cara said with a nod of acknowledgement. Peter returned the nod. Both fell asleep the night before in awkward silence. The question of why his touch brought her to life still hung thickly in the air. Cara recalled Aslan's words of why he named her High Queen those years ago, but she still refused to recognize what they could mean.

"Is this not a glorious morning, Peter?" asked Lucy with a smile. "Oh, but I do wish we had more to eat than apples." Her smile faltered. Peter looked at his half eaten apple and agreed. Apples are splendid for breakfast, but only if you had not eaten one for supper as well. With a sigh Peter tossed the remainder of his apple into the bushes and rose from his resting spot.

"Were you able to find anything of interest while on your walk," Peter asked the two Queens as they made their way back to camp.

"There is a canal on the other side of Cair Paravel, but its waters are swift. I do not recommend trying to swim it," replied Cara. Peter nodded at her words and pursed his lips. He would have to think of something.

BBBBBB

Soon all were awake and dressed in Narnian clothing. The four carried their gifts from Father Christmas once again, and Cara found her sword and daggers from her battles past. After everyone splashed their faces with water from the cool well, and ate at least a bite or two of apple, they headed down to the shore, where Cara and Lucy led them to the canal.

"We'll have to swim," said Edmund, as he stared at the narrow line of water.

"It would be alright for Sue," said Peter, for Susan had won many swimming competitions back in England, "but I don't know about the rest of us."

"I'm sure you and Edmund could make it Peter, and I know I cannot swim for nuts back home, but we are in Narnia, and I do feel stronger already," said Lucy with eyes full of hope. Peter made a face as if he was thinking deeply. He knew that Lu would never make it, and he truly didn't think Ed could either, but he did not wish to hurt anyone's feelings.

"I'm sure you are right. Both your brothers are quite strong, and you as well, but the water is swift, and I do not think I could make it," said Cara to Lucy. Peter looked at her with admiration. The High Queen met his gaze and nodded, for both knew that she was indeed lying, but her small lie helped Peter out of an awful lot of trouble. Peter noted that he would have to thank her later.

"Maybe we can build some sort of makeshift bridge," said Edmund, but his words were only met with "Hush!" and "Quiet!" for something else was now going on. Beyond the wood to their right, a small row boat came into view and began to turn down the mouth of the canal. Inside the boat were two soldiers, one rowing and the other holding a twitching bundle. The five companions quickly stepped backwards into the thick trees.

The men's faces were hard and bearded, with strong metal helmets covering their heads, and strong metal armor covering their chests. "Telmarine soldiers," Cara said softly to Peter. Her breath tickled his ear, causing the hair on the back of his neck to tighten and rise. He ignored the sensation and concentrated on the problem at hand.

"This is far enough," said the soldier holding the wiggling object.

"Should we tie a stone to its feet? Make sure it drowns?" replied the other.

"We didn't bring a stone you laggard, plus he will drown as is."

Suddenly, many things happened all at once. The soldier carrying the bundle rose to his feet, and Cara noticed that not only was it alive, but it was a dwarf. His hands and feet were securely tied, but he still struggled as hard as he could. Just as the soldier went to toss him, a whooshing noise passed Cara's ear. Not a moment later, the man holding the dwarf dropped him into the water before falling backwards out of the boat. He quickly resurfaced and headed for the opposite bank. Cara looked over to find Susan restringing her bow.

"Shoot to kill," Cara told Susan. "If they reach the mainland they will inform others." Susan nodded and let her arrow fly. As soon as the second soldier fell, Cara, Peter, and Edmund dashed from the trees.

"Grab the boat, Ed," yelled Peter. "We don't want her to drift." Soon both boys disappeared into the water. Peter after the dwarf and Edmund after the boat. Cara ran to the edge of the shore and searched the opposite bank for the soldier that escaped. Movement caught her eye, but the trees were too thick and too many to risk losing one of her blades on a tainted attempt.

"Damn," she said softly to herself as she watched the Telmarine struggle up the hill. Seeing that her chance was over, Cara took her eyes from the bank and placed them on the soaked form of the High King as he struggled to get the dwarf ashore. After giving the far bank one last look, Cara made her way over to the duo with her dagger still clutched in her hand.

Peter set the dwarf softly on the sand once they were clear of the water. Cara reached the dwarf quickly and kneeled beside him. Using her dagger, she easily cut both of his bounds. Once free, the dwarf turned on his side and sputtered and coughed until all water was rid from his lungs. He was a red dwarf, with a deep broad chest and a face full of wiry whiskers.

"Well, you don't feel like ghosts," the dwarf said in a deep, gruff voice. "But even if you are, I am indebted to you for saving my life."

"Ghosts?" asked Lucy. "Why should we be ghosts?"

"Legend says that these woods are filled with ghosts. Near as many ghosts as there are trees. That's why, when the Telmarines wish to get rid of anyone, they drop 'em off here. They believe that if the drownin doesn't kill em' the ghosts will," explained the dwarf as he attempted to wipe the gritty sand from his hands and beard.

"Just as I expected," said Cara sadly. "Do they run Narnia now?"

"Now," answered the dwarf, "and for the past few hundred years." Cara couldn't help but cast her eyes down at the dwarf's words. She truly had failed Narnia.

"Oh bother," added Susan. "I suppose Ed was right about the time."

"Why were they trying to drown you?" asked Peter.

"I'm a right criminal, I am," said the dwarf with a great deal of pride. "But that is a story I wish to tell after breakfast. Being executed gives one quite an appetite."

"We only have apples," said Lucy sadly, for she would give anything for a piece of bread and margarine.

"Apples will do," responded the dwarf as he clamored to his feet, "but fish would be a great deal better." The Kings and Queens agreed that fish would be a great deal better than apples, but no one had any fishing tackle, and catching fish with one's bare hands is not only frustrating, but rather time consuming.

"It looks as if I will be inviting you to breakfast then," said the dwarf. "I believe I saw tackle in the boat, but it would be smart for us to go around to the other side of the island. We don't want anyone from the mainland to spot us."

"It might be too late for that," said Cara. "One of the soldiers made his way to the opposite bank." The dwarf turned and looked at Cara as she spoke. It seemed that it was the first time that he really noticed her, for he kept his eyes on her long after she stopped talking.

"Beards and breadsticks," he said to himself, then turned and looked at each Pevensie closely. The dwarf's eyes quickly locked on the sword at Peter's side. "Blimey."

"Is something wrong?" asked Cara.

"Doesn't matter now. Let's get to fishing first," responded the Dwarf causing frowns of confusion to spread across each of the royal's faces.

"Very well then," said Peter. "Everyone into the boat. Ed and I will push her off."

The three girls and the dwarf made their way quickly to the boat. The dwarf climbed in with little issue, while Susan helped Lucy before gracefully swinging her legs over the side and sliding in. Cara went to follow her when a hand grabbed her elbow. She glanced over to find Peter offering his support as she climbed aboard. His wet shirt was plastered to his chest, and his golden hair covered up the top of his eyes. Peter smirked as a small blush came to her cheeks.

"Come on, Pete," said Edmund from behind him. Peter's cheeks matched Cara's as he let go of her arm and went to stand beside Edmund. "I don't think she needed your help," Ed said with a laugh.

"I was just being chivalrous," responded Peter.

"I'm sure."

"Days a wastin, boys," came the voice of the dwarf. "The fish can't bite if we aren't there."

Soon the boat was surrounded by deep water and the two Kings were safely aboard. Peter quickly took to rowing, while the dwarf steered them around the island and into slightly deeper water. Cara and Edmund gathered together the tackle, which consisted of one fishing pole and a small bag of bate. Once the dwarf was content with the location, he grabbed the pole and took to fishing.

Within a matter of an hour the dwarf managed to catch enough pavenders to feed the entire company. Lucy marveled at the rainbow colored fish, telling Cara and the dwarf tales of when her and her siblings feasted on them in Cair Paravel. Cara explained that she too remembered eating the lavish fish. "Matter of fact," she said as the dwarf steered them up a small creek, "pavenders are the very last thing I ate before I was turned to stone."

Lucy questioned whether the meal seemed as if it was just yesterday, and if Cara was not as excited about the fish as the rest of them. Cara quickly responded that fish were always better than apples.

"Stone?" the dwarf asked as the boat ran upon the shore, his face full of confusion and wonder.

Cara smiled as she stepped past him and onto the sand, where she helped Peter pull the boat fully onto the bank. "That is a tale to tell after our stomachs are full."

"Agreed," was the dwarf's reply. "Breakfast is the first course of action."

After the boat was secured to a tree not far from the bank, and the problem of carrying the fish was assessed—with the help of Edmund's hat—the six companions made their way inland. Edmund led the group toward the castle, while Cara and Peter brought up the rear. Peter found himself watching Cara's every step, awaiting the moment when he could offer her any assistance. Although he told himself it was simply the gentleman inside of him, he knew that he was purely looking for an excuse to touch her. Sadly for Peter, Cara's step was quite steady, causing him to find that his only contact with her was going to be through speech. After wracking his brain for appropriate topics, Peter remembered Cara's earlier aid.

"Cara," Peter said softly.

"You're welcome, Peter," she replied.

"Come again?" responded Peter.

"Were you not going to thank me for assisting you in avoiding the canal?" she asked.

"Well, yes. I suppose I was."

"Then, you are welcome," Cara said again, a small smile forming on her lips.


	4. The Dwarf Needs Proof

Chapter 4

The Dwarf Needs Proof

The dwarf's anxiety grew the higher the company climbed. The ruins of Cair Paravel all but surrounded them, and the dense trees made it difficult to walk and see. "Ghosts," he would mumble as his eyes darted around. "We are all ghosts."

Once the troop entered the ruble of the Great Hall, the sky opened and the sun blazed down on top of them. The dwarf gazed around at the large pieces of broken wall around him, his fingers twitched as if he wished to grab a weapon. "One thing before we go on. Place your hand on your hearts and swear to me we aren't all ghosts. I'm about sure I drowned and we are ghosts together."

Peter chuckled before placing his hand over his heart. The others soon followed his lead. "I swear to you that we are all quite alive. Does hunger plague the dead?"

Seeming to find peace in Peter's words, the dwarf shouted out orders to the troop, before borrowing Lucy's dagger and skillfully cleaning the fish. Edmund and Peter were to start and fire, while the girls found a bucket and filled it with cool water from the well. Eating is far more enjoyable when one does not have to get up to quench his or her thirst, or so was the dwarf's reasoning.

Soon the fish were cleaned and cooking on the fire's smoldering embers. Once the fish were good and done, everyone set to eating, which is rather difficult with no utensils. Fingers were burnt and mouths were poked with little bones, but none complained, for the fish were delicious and far more appetizing than apples. When everyone finished the meal with a sip from the bucket, the dwarf pulled a pipe from his shirt, filled it and lit it, before leaning back against a shady tree and looking at Peter. "Shall we begin?"

"We shall," replied Peter, "but we would quite like to hear your tale first."

"Since you saved my life, I will honor your wishes," responded the dwarf before taking a deep puff from his pipe. "First I must say that I am a messenger for King Caspian the Tenth."

"King Caspian the Tenth?" asked Cara. "Caspian the First had no right to call himself King. That entire line in nothing more than Telmarine swine."

"Caspian the Tenth is the rightful King of Narnia, and long may he reign!" replied the dwarf. Cara looked at him with disgust.

"Rightful King? His people are the ones that created the ruble around you. The rightful King should sit here at Cair Paravel."

"Cair Paravel is gone," Peter cut in, sending a harsh look towards Cara.

"Peter is right. Let us hear the dwarf's story before me make any judgments," said Edmund.

Cara scowled at Peter, but she said nothing else on the topic. Seeing that it was ok for him to continue, the dwarf explained how King Caspian was truly not King at all, "—well," he said, "he is King of the Old Narnians at least."

The use of the term _Old_ Narnian caused a great deal of confusion, while the term _New_ Narnian caused a great deal of anger, especially on Cara's part, for she refused to admit that the Telmarines had any right to call themselves Narnians at all. Peter once again told her to silence herself, which caused Cara to begin to rise from her spot beside the fire. Susan grabbed her hand and whispered something into her ear. None knew what was said, but Susan's words calmed Cara enough that she sat down quietly and said nothing for the remainder of the story, nor did she give Peter a second glance.

After realizing that the only way to explain everything correctly was to start at the beginning, the dwarf began the tale of Caspian's professor and his teachings of the old ways. From here he described Caspian's escape and the treachery of King Miraz. Lucy found this part very exciting, and repeatedly asked the dwarf for details, which he happy added.

As the dwarf continued, Peter cast worried glances towards the High Queen, who seemed to pay little attention to anything except for the fire. Her eyes were cold and hard as she stared into the smoldering embers. Peter wished that she would look towards him. He would give anything to simply offer her a smile; a signal of truce. She cast her gaze up once, but it was only to look quickly at the dwarf before returning her eyes back to the fire. Peter soon gave up trying to catch her eye, and deciding to simply ignore the problem, paid his attention entirely to the dwarf.

Not an hour later the dwarf's tale was all but complete. The Pevensies and Cara learned how a magic horn came into Caspian's possession, and how the very dwarf before them was sent on a mission to meet the Kings and Queens of old.

"I was not a few hours on my journey when I heard a sound the filled the air like thunder, but flew over water like music," explained the dwarf, who the Pevensies and Cara learned was called Trumpkin. "I knew that Caspian must have blown the horn, for only magic can make a noise like that."

Hearing about the horn made the Pevensies very excited. "About what time was it?" asked Edmund hurriedly.

"About nine or ten I would say," responded Trumpkin.

This caused a cheer of enthusiasm from all of the Pevensies, for that was precisely the time that they were pulled from the railway station. Everyone, save Cara, quickly fell into chatter about being called into Narnia and the anticipation of their future adventures.

"It's a bit unsettling knowing one can be called like that," said Edmund.

"Oh, but we do want to be here, don't we?" responded Lucy "If Aslan wants us, and if Narnia needs us." Peter quickly agreed with her.

"That's all well and good," began Trumpkin, "but what can we do now? I suppose I must travel back to King Caspian and explain that the horn didn't work."

"But it _did_ work, for here we are," responded Susan with a slightly angry voice. She took offense to the dwarf speaking badly about her horn.

"Well, yes. But, um. I believe the King was expecting warriors, you see," said Trumpkin.

"What are you getting at?" asked Edmund. "You believe we can't hold our own?"

"Well it isn't that. I do love little children, just not quite at a time like this," Trumpkin told Edmund, who was getting quite red in the face.

"Coming from you, _little_ is taking it a bit too far," Edmund said as he stood up.

"Now, there is really no reason to get irate," interjected Peter. "Let us fit him and ourselves into armor from the treasure chamber, and we can have a talk after that." Edmund went to argue with Peter, but Lucy got to him before he had a chance.

"Shouldn't we listen to Peter? He is the High King, and I do believe he has a plan." Edmund agreed with this, and by the aid of his electric torch they all made their way down the stairs and into the chamber.

Cara sat back and watched the ordeal with only slight interest. She had a rather large craving to hit the High King that would simply not subside. During Trumpkin's long tale of Caspian—as Cara referred to him, for she refused to use _King_— she could feel Peter's eyes burning into her, which only fueled her wanting to disregard him and his actions. She fully intended on staying beside the fire when the very boy that she loathed called to her.

"Cara, this includes you," Peter said as his head popped out of the chamber doorway. "I do have a plan." When Cara offered no response Peter continued. "You are acting like a child, you know."

That was it.

"A child!" yelled Cara. "I did not hear the dwarf referring to me as _little_, and I will have you know that my age is of a greater number than yours."

"A greater number?" asked Peter. "I lived nine hundred years before you did."

"In _our_ time High King, but not in yours. You still have the body of a boy," Cara responded with a voice full of contempt. She could tell by the look on Peter's face that she had damaged a large part of his ego, not to mention that her words were entirely untrue, for his body resembled that of a man despite his young age.

"Fine, deny me those years, but when I ruled Narnia I lived to be an age greater than the one you are now. I may not look like a grown man, but in my chest beats the heart of one and my mind contains the wisdom of one," Peter responded with a flushed face. Never before had a woman spoken to him this way, and never before had such simple words angered him so.

"The wisdom, Peter? Have you already forgotten that you support the placing of a Telmarine on the Narnian throne? I see no wisdom in that." Cara's face was now as flushed as Peter's, and her heart beat widely in her chest.

"You have no right to criticize my decisions as High King. Have _you_ already forgotten that Narnia fell while you sat on her throne? Might I also add that it was not Susan's horn that brought you back to Narnia, but my hand." Peter was now standing only feet from Cara. His blue eyes blazed into her dark ones as he spoke, but his anger quickly subsided when he saw the heartache sketched on her face.

"Cara, I am—" Peter started, but was cut off by the sound of Susan's voice.

"Peter, do hurry up. We are all nearly dressed."

The High King went to finish his apology when Cara pushed past him and disappeared down the corridor. Peter grabbed the bridge of his nose and squinted his eyes. Another headache was forming; something he noticed often accompanied the High Queen.

When Peter entered the treasure chamber he was met with Edmund and Lucy trying to equip Trumpkin with chain mail, which despite his current situation produced a chuckle deep inside his chest. The dwarf looked quite stuffed in some places, and quite loose in others, but in the end the young King and Queen managed to outfit him with armor that was not only beautiful, but useable.

Both Edmund and Susan were changed from their traveling clothes to their personal armor, while Lucy remained in her gown, for her duties began after battle, which gave her no need to wear such clothing. Seeing that he was behind in his preparations, Peter grabbed his armor and began to dress, his arms and legs and heart feeling stronger with each clasp that he made. Soon the golden lion stood robust on his chest once again.

Cara appeared not long after Peter finished. Her hair was now secured back and she wore a dress much like Susan's, with chain mail secured under leather armor and a flowing skirt underneath. Peter quickly noted that her expression was not one of anger any longer, but one of deep sadness. His heart fell at the knowledge that he caused her such grief.

After locating equipment for the dwarf; that is to say, a sword and a bow, the company made their way back up the staircase and out into the sun. Peter and Edmund lagged slightly behind whispering hurriedly to each other. It seemed Peter did have a plan, which Cara, quite silently, wished would fail.

"May I ask you a question?" asked Edmund to the dwarf once the entire crew was out of the chamber and standing amongst the ruble that was the Great Hall. "Children such as us get very little excitement, and it would be a frightfully goodtime if you would spar with me. You see, I have never met a warrior such as yourself."

"But dear boy," said Trumpkin, "These blades are sharp, and sparing is a dangerous game."

"Indeed, but I am not good enough to ever touch you, and you will be swift enough to disarm me with no or little damage," responded Edmund. Cara noticed that the corner of his mouth twitched as he said this.

"You do make a point of it," said Trumpkin. Not a moment later both swords were out and at the ready. Cara had met many dwarves when she ruled, therefore she was not surprised when Trumpkin not only started the battle, but pushed Edmund back rather quickly. Dwarves might be small creatures, but height is truly the only department that they are deficient in.

Lucy watched with excitement, while Susan yelled repeatedly for the boys to be careful, for she never quite got used to such sports. Peter looked on with a face lacking any emotion; his mind completely on the young woman beside him and the tension that perforated the air between them.

Edmund and the dwarf circled continually, both taking turns slashing and jumping as they attacked each other. Trumpkin was more aggressive than Edmund, swinging his sword viciously at the King's legs. Edmund managed to jump gracefully out of the way each time; the quickness of their movements making the battle very exhilarating for the on lookers.

Seeming to decide that it was time to end the battle, Edmund turned quickly and with one swift move sent Trumpkin's swords flying into the air and out of his hands. The dwarf stared in disbelief at the young King before turning to all of the children and replying, "Well I do see your point. The boy knows a trick or two I never learned."

"This is true," responded Peter. "The winning swordsman generally only does so by knowing a few tricks that his opponent does not. I think we shall offer you another chance. Will you try archery against my sister?"

The dwarf accepted the offer with little hesitation, for among his people he was a famous bowman. Soon the target was picked—a small apple hanging high in the trees—and the first arrow was shot. Trumpkin smiled to himself as his arrow just missed the apple; it truly was a brilliant shot considering the distance of the target. Susan came next, and after stringing her bow she took aim and let go. The apple hit the ground with a small _plop_ not moments later.

"Well done Su," came Peter's voice, which was accompanied by claps from the two remaining Pevensies and Cara. Susan felt dreadfully bad. She did enjoy winning, but seeing the dwarf lose for a second time saddened the gentle Queen.

"Do you have anymore tricks up your sleeves?" Trumpkin asked Peter with a laugh. "It seems I have made quite a fool of myself, and I do hope you take my humble apology, your Majesties."

Peter looked to Cara, who was busy congratulating Susan on her remarkable shot. The High Queen still refused to look at him, or acknowledge his presence at all. Seeing that he had an opportunity to engage Cara in conversation, and possibly a truce, he turned to the Queen and said, "Cara, I do believe you are quite good with throwing knives? I noticed you carry many daggers on your person. Perhaps you wish to enter a contest with the dwarf."

"If he wishes," Cara said without looking at the High King.

"I'm not one to ever turn down a contest," responded Trumpkin, "and I am quite good with daggers."

"Very well then," said Peter. "Pick your target."

Trumpkin picked a tree that was quite far off, and took his aim with one of Cara's many daggers. After a moment of preparation he sent the small knife on its way. It was a perfect shot; one that would be rather impossible to beat. After praising the dwarf, Cara took her stance and aimed. At the last minute she turned her body towards the High King and let her dagger go. Peter felt a soft breeze across his cheek before hearing a thumb directly beside his head.

"Lollipops and lanterns!" said Trumpkin. "What a shot!" And indeed it was, for not a centimeter from Peter's head was Cara's dagger sticking out of a tree. Cara walked casually up to Peter and pulled her dagger from the dark wood.

"What are you talking about?" she asked the dwarf. "I missed."


	5. Oh I Do Love Adventures

Chapter 5

Oh I _Do_ Love Adventures

Not long after Cara's anger manifested itself into a physical manner, Peter declared that it was time for them to join King Caspian. Cara scoffed at the use of King, which enticed a glare from both Peter and Trumpkin, but she made no attempt to go against Peter's wishes. Instead she brought up a very important point: "Which way are we to travel?"

"I suppose going the way of Our Dear Little Friend would not be in our best interests," Edmund responded. All agreed, especially the dwarf, for he did not wish to be captured and executed again.

"But please, your Majesty, no more of that," Trumpkin added. He meant, of course, the use of Dear Little Friend.

"Very well," said Edmund, "may I use D.L.F. instead?"

Trumpkin agreed with a chuckle even though Susan, who said "Edmund, don't keep on him like that," opposed its use.

Once the chatter about the dwarf's new name died down, Cara mentioned the importance of creating a plan of travel once again. "Aslan's How is what you four know as the Stone Table," she explained. "I think it best to go by way of sea. At least for a short period, for we can row south until we reach Glasswater Creek."

"Jolly good point," said Edmund. "Glasswater comes directly behind the Hill of the Stone Table. Plus, sticking to the sea is a safer root."

The group assembled all of their belongings, took a quick sip from the well (for they decided that carrying the bucket would be far too cumbersome), and gathered together a great bundle of apples.

Soon preparations were complete, and the journey back to the shore commenced. Edmund and Peter led the way, with Cara and Susan bringing up the rear. The forest was thick and cool compared to the heat that perforated the open ruble of the Great Hall. Even so, it was not long before the group was dripping in sweat, and quite uncomfortable in their armor. "I do wish for this to be over," whispered Susan to Cara as she bobbled over one rather large stump.

"Truly you can't wish that," replied Lucy, who had overheard the older Queen. "I love adventures and exciting new places." Cara listened to the Queens with only half an ear, for she was more interested in the whispers of the two Kings that walked ahead of her.

"I think she might be mad at you," Edmund said softly to Peter

"And what ever gave you that idea, Ed," responded Peter.

"Well, it could be that fact that she almost killed you."

"She was simply trying to prove a point to the dwarf," Peter said in a tired voice.

"I'm not so sure of that," Edmund said as he cast a look back at the High Queen. Her eyes were glued to the back of Peter's head. "I truly think she is replaying that scene in her mind, except this time the dagger is a few centimeters to the right." Peter offered no response, so Edmund decided to keep talking. "Is there any particular reason why she would be so angry, apart from you telling her to hush a few times?"

Peter sighed deeply and brushed the hair from his eyes. "We got in a bit of an argument."

"A bit?" asked Edmund. "A bit of an argument would not warrant a look like that."

"I suppose it got slightly heated."

Realizing that Peter was only going to offer as little information as possible, Edmund blatantly spit out, "Peter, what did you say to her?" Sighing once again, Peter looked at his brother before casting his eyes downward.

"There was a part when I called her a child and another where I mentioned that Narnia fell while she was upon the throne." Peter's voice dropped off at the end, so it took Edmund a moment to comprehend exactly what his brother was getting at, but when he did, his face flushed and he grabbed his brother's arm forcing him to stop walking.

"Peter, you didn't!"

"Well she wasn't exactly nice either," Peter argued back with an exasperated voice. "She told me I had the body of a boy!"

Edmund responded the absolute worst way possible—with a laugh. Peter's face grew red as his brother continued to shake with mirth. To add to the situation, the rest of group stopped only a few feet back and were watching intently. Cara's face wore a smile for the first time since early that morning. Peter glared at her when he saw this.

"I'm happy you think it's funny," he shot at her, before turning on his heal and continuing down the slope.

"Peter!" Edmund called with laughter still in his voice. "Peter do slow down. I didn't mean to laugh. Really, I didn't." When Peter showed no sign of slowing, Edmund cast a look of amusement towards the girls, before picking up a jog and following after his brother.

"Why don't you go and giggle with her some more," Peter said when Edmund reached him. His pace was nothing more than a fast walk, but he pushed and snapped branches with far more force than was needed.

"Honestly Peter, the jab you threw at her was a far greater offence than the one she cast at you," Edmund responded. Unhappy with his brother's reply, Peter quickened his pace.

"I do admit that what she said was—," Edmund stopped for a moment to collect his thoughts, for all he really wanted to do was laugh, "—was _ghastly_, but step back and consider what you said to her. How would you feel if Narnia collapsed while you were her caretaker?"

Even though Peter knew that Edmund was right—as usual—he was far too angry at the moment to acknowledge it. Earlier, Peter had immediately regretted his words, but after hearing Cara mock him once again with her laughter, he wished for another chance to berate her. Therefore, Peter decided to marinate in his anger for just a bit longer, then he would subdue his pride long enough to apologize.

Maybe.

Soon the dense trees opened up and the creek bank appeared before them. Peter immediately began giving orders; his irritation apparent. "Lucy and Susan, sit in the bows and shout directions to the D.L.F. Trumpkin, you will steer while Ed and I each grab an oar."

Cara was intentionally left out, which she immediately noticed. Deciding that she was not going to allow the fowl temper of the High King to offend her, she climbed into the boat and placed herself between Lucy and Susan. She _would_ help with directions whether Peter asked her to or not.

Trumpkin climbed in next and tried to find a comfortable place to sit where he could still steer. He quickly found that comfort was not going to be offered to him on this trip, for his feet could not reach the ground no matter which way he turned his body. Cara immediately felt bad for the dwarf, and was about to ask if he wished for her to steer, when Peter's voice cut off her question.

"Wait a tick, Ed," Peter said just as Edmund was climbing into the boat. "This armor is going to be terribly hot once we get out into the high sun." Edmund paused for a moment before stepping back onto the shore and removing his shield from his arm. Cara watched as both boys pealed off the bits and pieces of their armor and placed them into the boat; a blush creeping onto her cheeks with each new removal.

Finally finished, Edmund climbed into the boat and took his place by the left oar, while Peter undid the boat's tie and pushed them into the water. As Peter jumped into the boat, Cara could not help but observe that Peter's body looked nothing like a boy's. His broad shoulders were apparent through the thin fabric of his tunic, and his leggings hid little of his muscular legs.

It wasn't until Lucy giggled from beside her that Cara realized she was staring open mouthed at the High King. The grin on Edmund's face proved that Lucy was not the only one who had noticed. Feeling quite embarrassed, Cara turned her body so she was facing the water, and looked directly ahead.

Luckily for Cara, Peter was too lost in his own thoughts to notice that her eyes were glued to him as he undressed and found his place beside the right oar. It was not until he glanced up at the sound of Lucy's giggle, that he realized that he had missed something. Cara's back was now facing him, while Edmund and Lucy were both casting her and Peter amused glances.

"What?" Peter asked defensively, which caused his two siblings to leave behind their giggles and burst into laughter. "Oh sod off, you two. Edmund, get to rowing."

"Aye, aye, Sir Peter Wolf's Bane," Edmund replied with a laugh. Peter sent Edmund a glare that caused him to finally quiet his laughter and mumble an apology. Soon the boat fell into thick silence.

Not five minutes later the ocean opened up in front of them. Both Peter and Edmund were already soaked in sweat due to the blaring heat, and Lucy was beginning to complain about a headache. Cara stared at the rolling waves before her, longing to jump into them and cool her burning body. As the heat covered the small boat, Cara began to wonder how much she really did enjoy adventures. _Bloody hell_ she thought. _I too wish this was over_.

Strangely enough, Susan seemed to be taking great pleasure in the boat ride. "This reminds me of the days spent on the _Splendour Hyaline_," she said as she bent over the boat and allowed the tips of her fingers to brush the water.

"Oh yes!" Lucy chimed in, "and the feasts on the poop and the musicians playing well into the night."

"And our voyages to the Seven Isles and the Lone Islands," added Susan.

"Cara, did you ever have such adventures when you ruled from Cair Paravel?" Lucy asked with excitement. She was sure that the High Queen also shared in such happy times.

"No," Cara replied rather blandly. "Narnia was a different place when I ruled. These waters were far from safe."

Lucy's face fell. "I suppose it was like it is now," she said softly.

"Quite worse, Valiant Queen, for Narnia was under attack then. These are much quieter times," Cara replied; her eyes downcast on the water.

"But not for long," interjected the D.L.F. "Narnia will return the favor that the Telmarines bestowed upon us."

"Speaking of favors, would one of you girls be good enough to trade places with me for a bit? I'm quiet put out at the moment," asked Edmund, whose face was flushed and arms were tired.

Cara quickly noticed that Susan was once again busy trying to touch the water, and seemed to have little interest in stopping, which left only her to take Ed's place, for Lucy was too small.

After a deep sigh, Cara turned around and began to unburden herself. First came her six hidden daggers and her word. Next was her leather corset, for rowing and breathing went hand in hand, and breathing with a corset is never easy. Last she removed her tight fitting chain mail, which Peter almost asked her if she needed help with. Luckily he remembered that he was angry with her. Not to mention that helping the High Queen remove her clothes would be rather inappropriate. Peter blushed at the thought and concentrated on his rowing.

Once Cara was prepared to row, she and Edmund switched places. The oar was almost too big for her slender hands, but she managed to get a good grasp and match Peter's pace. Even though she tried not to notice, the top of Peter's tunic had come untied, allowing a large part of his bare chest to show. Cara promptly realized that rowing beside the High King was going to be difficult, but she tried to focus on the sea before her, and pretended that a fat, old man sat beside her instead.

Peter's thoughts were not much different that Cara's. Every few strokes his shoulder bumped into hers, and the glistening of her skin was hard to look away from. The heat seemed to dissipate the tension between them, and the closeness of their bodies was more intoxicating than irritating. With all of these things in mind, Peter decided that he was no longer angry with Cara at all. Matter of fact, their words to each other seemed rather silly at this point. Thinking of this, Peter let out a chuckle.

"Something funny?" Cara asked while keeping her eyes on the island that was disappearing behind them.

"Just thinking about our earlier tussle, and the stupidity of it," Peter responded with a grin. Cara looked over at the King, and noticing the laughter in his eyes, smiled as well.

"I suppose it was slightly childish on both our parts," said Cara.

"So all is forgiven?" asked Peter with hopeful eyes.

"I suppose," she responded with a smirk.

From this point on, Peter's shoulder bumped Cara's more often than not, both silently thinking that they rather enjoyed the contact.


	6. Late Night Talks and Proud High Kings

Chapter 6

Late Night Talks and Proud High Kings

By the time the little row boat made its last turn into Glasswater Creek, its occupants were more than ready to get off. Peter, Edmund, Cara, and Susan were beyond exhaustion from rowing, while Lucy's head pounded from the constant heat and the slow roll of the waves. Even Trumpkin longed for the voyage to be over; the extra strength of the dwarves dwindling with each passing moment.

As the sun began to dip below the trees that flourished along the bank, the boat rounded its last corner before finally finding a place to dock. Cara and Susan drug their tired limbs out of the boat and collapsed onto the shore; the movement of the waves still making them dizzy. Lucy and the D.L.F. were not far behind, followed by Peter and Edmund, whose hair and faces were covered in sweat and grime.

Peter tied off the boat with little enthusiasm and collapsed beside Cara on the bank. Edmund found a cozy spot beside Susan and immediately closed his eyes. Everyone was nearly asleep when Lucy's voice shook through their dreams.

"We really should move inland, don't you think? Maybe roast a few apples?"

Peter groaned in response and turned on his side, while Edmund seemed to already be snoring. Susan and Cara glanced at each other, both knowing what needed to be done, but both too sore and tired to care.

"Oh do come on," said Lucy again. "It can't be all that bad."

"She is right. Moving inland would be the smart thing to do," Trumpkin added as his eyes brushed along the bank as if expecting to see something. "Plus, we need to find fresh water, or none of us will last much longer."

Cara and Susan locked eyes once again, both making a silent truce to rise at the same time. With a few moans and a grumble, the two Queens were once again on their feet, but Peter and Edmund showed no signs of moving. Quite honestly, Edmund didn't even appear to be alive.

Susan immediately began to berate the two Kings on their lack of eagerness to find King Caspian, which they easily ignored. Finding Susan's ranting far worse than the heat and fatigue, Cara casually walked up to the boat, grabbed an oar, and smacked both Peter and Edmund on the legs with it. This enticed an immediate reaction from the two boys, and within a few minutes the company had gathered all of their belongings and was slowly trudging inland.

The trees were larger in these woods—older—with huge trunks and limbs that dipped and turned before stretching towards the sky. Small streams bubbled passed them and into the creek, but Trumpkin advised the Kings and Queens to drink the water further up, for it was purer and tastier the farther away from the ocean they went.

After only ten minutes of walking, the children were unable to continue on. They stopped near a small stream and placed their belongings between four large beech trees. A supper of apples was far more appetizing than attempting to catch something, so the group entered into quiet munching before snuggling down into the moss and leaves that covered the ground.

Soon darkness spread throughout the woods and the sounds of night fell upon them. Night also brought with it a cool breeze that seemed to cling to the damp clothing of the children. Unable to find any warmth, Cara glanced around the campsite in the hopes of finding someone to talk to while she attempted to fall asleep. Edmund and the D.L.F were already snoring soundly, while Lucy and Susan were cuddled up together trying to keep warm. Peter seemed to be asleep as well, for he was turned on his side and breathing deeply. Hope bubbled in Cara when the High King suddenly rolled onto his other side and faced her, but his eyes were closed and his breathing remained even.

With a sigh, Cara leaned back into the moss and pulled her limbs as close to her body as possible. Even though she was weak with fatigue, her mind seemed to race with everything that had happened over the last two days and the journey that lay ahead of them. Without realizing her movement, Cara began to toss and turn, trying to find the warmest, most comfortable position.

"Unable to sleep?"

Cara jumped slightly at the sudden voice, and looked over to see the bright blue eyes of Peter looking back at her; a small smile was twitching in the corners of his mouth.

"Forgive me if I woke you," Cara responded.

"No blame goes to you. Are you chilled?" Peter asked as Cara wrapped her arms tighter around herself.

"Only slightly," she lied and turned on her back to escape Peter's eyes. The change in position soon caused a shiver to run through her body.

"You little liar," Peter said with a laugh and sat up. He glanced around the campsite in the hopes of finding something useful to aid her, but it was to no avail, for the only thing he came across was his armor, and that was far from comfortable.

"What are you expecting to find, Peter?" Cara asked as she watched him look around.

"I suppose I was wishing a fluffy, warm blanket would appear from the air," he responded with a laugh, fully aware how ridiculous his hopes were. Cara laughed as well, and for the first time Peter realized how beautiful the sound was.

"That would be splendid," Cara said with a sigh. "Sadly, a blanket appearing from thin air is not common in Narnia, so it seems that I have the option of either covering myself with moss, or praying to Aslan that dreams of warmth come to me quickly."

Peter's eyes went immediately to Lucy and Susan, who were snuggled up close and sleeping soundly. A vision of Cara lying close to him entered his mind, but he knew that the High Queen would not approve of such an offer. Not to mention what Susan would have to say about the obvious display of affection.

"I wish I could suggest another alternative, but alas, it seems that all I have is the warmth of my own body, and that I must keep for myself," Peter responded as he lay back onto the soft ground and attempted to find a comfortable position.

"Must you?" Cara asked softly. So softly actually that she was quite confident that Peter did not hear her, which was very intentional, for her words might make for an awkward situation.

Peter did hear her though, and after a moments contemplation he responded with, "I only must in the company we keep." His words were nearly as quiet as Cara's, but they still caused a flush to spread throughout her body. Both embarrassment and excitement consumed her, creating a mixture of emotions that Cara had never experienced. Suddenly feeling exposed, Cara turned her body away from Peter and closed her eyes. She was certainly warm enough now.

BBBBBB

Everyone awoke the next morning cranky, sore, and tired of apples. Darkness still surrounded them, for it was not quite morning and the sun hung low on the horizon. The air was thick with humidity and the cool breeze no longer blew. Cara and Peter smiled awkwardly at each other when they awoke, both giddy from the words they shared during the night. Once apples were eaten and leaves were shaken off, Peter and Edmund immediately began planning the remaining trip.

"If we head this direction," Edmund began as he pointed off into the woods, "we will hit the Rush River. There we can cross, and it is but a short while until the Stone Table, or Aslan's How as the D.L.F. calls it."

"Where do you plan to cross at the Rush River?" asked Cara. Both boys looked at her puzzled, for it seemed quite obvious to them.

"We can cross anywhere," answered Peter. "The river is rather shallow."

"True, the river itself is shallow, but the walls surrounding it are not," responded Cara.

"Since when? The Rush has always been shallow with low banks," said Peter with confusion. "Are you indicating that I do not know my land?"

"You _knew_ your own land, but land does change, and in my time the rock walls surrounding the river were steep. The river is probably a chasm by now," Cara tried to explain. She hoped that Peter did not take her words to harshly because she truly did not want another altercation with the High King.

"What say you D.L.F?" asked Edmund, hoping that he could solve the problem.

"The only land I know is around the Bridge of Beruna, and that land is crawling with Telmarines," responded Trumpkin.

"Then it is settled," said Peter as he cast his eyes around the group. "We cross at the Rush River."

Cara's face hardened when Peter said this and the flame inside her irrupted once again. "Are you honestly casting aside my advice as if it is garbage?"

"The river I knew had no walls and the way I know is the safest and fastest. Therefore that is the way we go," answered Peter as he began to collect his things.

"That way will lead us to a dead end and lost time," Cara responded, both hurt and annoyed that Peter could so easily trash her opinion. The High Queen was about to respond when Lucy's hand touched her arm.

"Might we trust him?" said Lucy to Cara. "He is the High King, and he is doing the best he can." Cara glanced at the young Queen but said nothing, for proof that her words were correct lay only hours ahead. At that time the High King would see his folly.

In silence the group collected their things and took one last cool sip from the stream. Peter and Edmund took the lead once again, with the dwarf and the girls trialing behind. The sun slowly began to rise as the troop delved deeper into the woods and farther away from Glasswater Creek.

Cara and Lucy lagged slowly behind, both lost in their own thoughts. Lucy spent time examining the trees, touching them softly and whispering for them to awake. Cara mainly looked to the ground, upset that Peter thought nothing of her advice. Susan soon noticed her downcast eyes, and being the gentle Queen that she was, slowed her pace until Cara caught up with her. Susan said nothing, opting instead to simply link her arm with Cara's. With a small smile, the two continued on together in silence. Even though the High Queen was still upset, Susan's company did wonders for her disposition.

Not long after Susan linked arms with Cara, Lucy's cheerful voice caught the attention of the group. Both older Queens turned to find Lucy disappearing into the woods. Beyond her something large moved beside an oak. "It's a bear," Susan said after taking a few steps closer.

"Don't move!" Trumpkin shouted as the bear turned its dark head towards the young Queen.

"It's alright," Lucy responded before looking at the bear and introducing herself. Halfway through Lucy's introduction the bear rose to its hind legs revealing its full height.

"Lucy, listen to Trumpkin. That bear might be wild," Cara yelled, but Lucy ignored her and continued walking fearlessly towards the bear. Without warning the bear dropped to all fours and charged. Lucy screamed and fell backwards over a root.

"Susan! Your bow—now!" Peter yelled, but the Gentle Queen barely had her arrow strung when the bear reached Lucy and collapsed at her feet. Sticking from his chest was an arrow and a blade.

Peter quickly past Susan and Cara as he made his way to Lucy, who was lying on the ground panting, but not hurt. "Susan, it looks as if you were beat this time," Peter said as he reached the bear and examined it. "Twice."

"Another lovely shot," Trumpkin said to Cara as he came to stand beside her.

"Same to you," she responded softly before walking forward to collect her dagger.

"Why would he attack me?" Lucy asked Peter in a shaky voice.

"You get treated like you're dumb long enough and you start acting like it," Trumpkin explained. "Well, there is no use wasting this meat. Boys, grab a few of Cara's blades and lets get to work."

Cara handed her already bloodied dagger over to the dwarf and reached for another two to hand to Peter and Edmund. The boys accepted the blades with a small thanks—Peter's was actually far longer and involved a smile, which Cara refused to return—and quickly began to clean the bear. Not wanting to see the mess, the three Queens wandered further up the trail and sat down on a rotting log.

Susan and Lucy chatted about the incident for a long while, both upset that the animals were now wild. Cara sat in silence and prayed to Aslan that the bear's soul would find peace. She truly hated the killing of animals and felt terrible about being involved. After forty minutes of cutting and cleaning, the boys gathered the meat together and cleaned themselves as best they could. Quite happy to be moving on, everyone re-gathered their belongings and fell in line once again behind Peter and Edmund.

As the group continued on, the sun began to peak through the trees above them casting shadows along the ground. Rocks appeared in greater numbers the closer they came to the Rush River, and the changing landscape caused Susan to mumble comments about their surroundings.

"These woods are hardly recognizable. I wonder if we even _are_ going in the right direction," she said softly to Cara.

"I know precisely where we are going and precisely where we are at," Peter responded after overhearing her.

"Well I have no clue of either," Susan said with some bight in her voice.

"That's the problem with girls," Edmund chimed in. "They can't keep a map in their heads."

"That's because our heads have something in them," Lucy said from behind Cara and Susan, who instantly began laughing; both happy that Lucy seemed to be feeling better after the confrontation with the bear.

"I believe your sister just out whittled you," said Trumpkin with a laugh.

"D.L.F, I do believe that you are right," Edmund responded and sent a smile back to his sister.

"Peter doesn't seem to find it amusing," Susan said quietly to the two Queens beside her, who laughed softly in response.

"Truly, he doesn't seem to have any sense of hum—" Cara's words were cut short, for the boys ahead of them had stopped abruptly. Not feet in front of them was a gigantic gorge with a small river flowing through the bottom of in. Cara suddenly sported a smirk.

Peter stared at the gorge in silence; his eyes taking in the truth and humiliation that lay before him. _Bloody hell_ he whispered as Cara came to stand beside him. He tried to ignore her presence, but it became impossible when she placed a soft hand on his shoulder. Expecting a retort, he looked at her with e sigh. "Let me have it then."

"Trust me next time," she said softly after a few moments of silence. Peter looked deeply into her eyes, and seeing only sincerity, nodded before turning away from the gorge and looking at the rest of the group.

"I suppose our only way is Beruna," said Peter, his voice not quite as confident as it was before. The group nodded in silence and began another trek away from the gorge. Suddenly, Lucy's voice rang out, causing everyone to stop and turn.

"Aslan! She shouted. "I see Aslan. He's is right over there!"

_Where?_ Everyone said at different times. Lucy turned away from the gorge and pointed behind her. "Just across the river; he wants us to follow him," she responded.

"Lucy, there is nothing there," responded Peter. Lucy quickly turned around, her eyes searching for the Great Lion. "I did see him," she said softly after finding only trees and rocks.

"Are you sure it wasn't a wild lion? I'm sure they are all over these parts," asked Peter, which caused Lucy to glare back at him.

"I think I know Aslan when I see him," she retorted.

"Did you say he wanted us to follow him?" Cara asked as she came to stand beside Peter. Lucy's face immediately brightened at the question.

"Yes, he wanted us to go across."

"Well I certainly don't want to go chasing after something that doesn't exist," said Trumpkin from behind the group.

"Why don't we have a vote," Edmund suggested. "The last time I didn't believe Lucy, I ended up looking pretty stupid. I vote we cross."

"I vote we don't," said Susan sternly.

"Same," added Trumpkin.

"I vote we look around and see if we can find a safe way down, then we decide," commented Cara as all eyes fell on her. Both Trumpkin and Susan explained how they didn't have time for nonsense like that, and that Cara needed to pick either one or the other. Thinking that her idea was the most intellectual, Cara immediately shot back a snide remark on the intelligence of walking away from a possibility of saved time.

"You were the one that didn't want to come this way in the first place," Trumpkin shot back.

"That was before Lucy saw Aslan," Cara responded.

"Lucy probably saw nothing more than a shadow," Susan interjected.

"I did see Aslan!" Lucy said and quickly began a tirade on Susan's inability to act like anything but an adult.

"Silence!" Peter yelled as he hand clasped the bridge of his nose. "I have yet to vote, and my vote decides what we do. Lucy, I'm sorry, but I choose to go the way of Beruna. It will be safer for us all."

Lucy's face contorted as she began to cry. Peter gave his sister an apologetic look before turning from the gorge and heading west towards the larger river. Everyone quickly fell into step behind him; Edmund lagged behind and attempted to comfort his younger sister. Even though he tried not to show it, Cara noticed that Peter seemed to be rather upset as well. Remembering their small moment the night before, Cara quickened her pace until she was walking beside him.

"You believe I'm making another mistake?" he asked in a sharp tone.

"No," Cara responded. "I believe you are a King having to make difficult decisions. I also believe that you need to place more trust in those around you." Peter glanced over at her and sighed.

"Trying to scale that gorge would be dangerous. I don't want anyone hurt," he explained. "Plus, why wouldn't I have seen him? Or you? Or anyone else?"

"I'm not talking about Lucy, Peter," Cara responded. Peter honestly had nothing to say to that. His pride had caused him to push Cara's advice aside without any amount of consideration, and the small act had made him look to be more of a fool than ever before.

After seeing that Peter was not going to respond, Cara continued. "Peter, all I ask is that you remember that I am your equal. My throne sits at the same height as yours."

"Will you forgive me?" Peter asked after a long moment of silence.

Without saying anything, Cara placed her soft hand in Peter's and rubbed her thumb along his rough skin. Peter slowed his pace and clasped his calloused hand around Cara's, who looked over to find his intense blue eyes smiling back at her.

"Speed it up," Trumpkin said suddenly, which startled them enough to drop each other's hands and look away. Peter couldn't help but grin as Cara continued to walk beside him, the tips of her fingers occasionally brushing against his.


	7. Of Slippery Slopes and Men

_Hey everyone! Thanks so much for the reviews and ideas. I will def take into account what all of you have to say while I'm writing this. Anywho, here is the next chapter. Enjoy and please leave a review! They make me write faster (promise) :D_

Chapter 7

Of Slippery Slopes and Men

As the hours passed and the Bridge of Beruna loomed ever closer, the woods became dense with brambles and the birds hardly made a sound. Lucy's tears were silent now, as was the rest of her. She mainly looked to the ground and avoided speaking to anyone except for Edmund, who walked beside her and offered his assistance when the trail became difficult. Susan continued to mumble about being lost, even though hardly anyone paid any attention, and Trumpkin glanced around at the trees with caution, for he knew that they were steadily heading into Telmarine territory. Cara and Peter were still in the lead, both covered in sweat and briars from clearing the path for everyone else.

Despite the situation, both high standing royals talked and laughed as if touched by something that no one else in the group could understand. All earlier arguments were long forgotten as Peter not only cleared the _path_ of briars, but also Cara's hair, which was quickly becoming as tangled with them as the average briar bush.

"Oh do stand still for a moment," said Peter as his hands worked themselves around a rather difficult briar that had happily lodged itself in the middle of Cara's head.

"Peter, the briars can wait," replied Cara with a chuckle as Peter nearly tripped trying to untangle the mess.

"As you wish, but by the time we leave these woods your hair will be nothing more than one giant briar patch," Peter answered as he let his hands fall back to his sides. Deciding that Peter was probably correct, Cara pulled the remaining briars from her hair and quickly braided it back, hoping that containing the wild strands would prevent another briar assault.

"How is it possible that your sister's hair has not one single briar in it?" Cara asked after glancing back at Susan, who seemed quite flushed and tired of walking, but still looked pristine with no briars and little sweat.

"I suppose she is better at this than you are," answered Peter with a smirk.

"You are probably right," commented Cara. "I was raised by centaurs if you remember."

"You are not allowed to use that excuse. Centaurs are very noble creatures and should not be held responsible for your lacking," Peter responded with a chuckle before attempting to jump out of the way when Cara's hand came flying towards his shoulder. He was unlucky in his attempt though, for Cara's fist made steady contact with his shoulder. Peter laughed at how pitiful an attempt the punch was.

"You're one to laugh, noble King. The only thing magnificent about you in your name," Cara shot back with a smirk.

Behind the arguing pair, the rest of the group—save for Susan because she was busy dreaming of being elsewhere—was listening intently to the lively banter. Though Lucy and Edmund tried not to show it, both were smiling inwardly at the happiness that Peter radiated. Although much of it could be related to their reentrance to Narnia, it was quite obvious that the High Queen had some part in their brother's recent joy. Trumpkin, on the other hand, found the dispute to be rather gag worthy, and spent much of his time rolling his eyes.

"I can prove to you my magnificence if you would like," Peter said after sporting a look of shock at Cara's words.

"And how would you go about proving this magnificence you speak of?" asked Cara with a challenging tone.

"I can challenge you to a duel," responded Peter, which caused Cara to laugh.

"And how would a duel with me prove anything, my Lord? I'm positive you would easily beat me."

"I think beating you would be half of the excitement," explained Peter, for he had a vision in his head of Cara pushed against a tree with her hair blowing free and her breathing uneven. What happened next in his mind caused a smirk to show on his face; a smirk so blatant that Cara could not help but notice its appearance.

"Why are you suddenly spor—" Cara's question was cut off by a sound that echoed off the trees and shook the ground beneath them. It was steady and continuous; each beat louder and deeper into the ground. The group stopped and glanced around, all wearing looks of confusion.

"What in Aslan's name…" Susan said softly as the sound continued to reverberate through the air.

"I think I might know what it is. Let's get a wee bit closer," Trumpkin said as he moved passed Cara and Peter and disappeared into the brush. Peter grabbed Cara's hand and pulled her along as he followed behind the dwarf. Soon the others fell into line and the group slowly made their way closer to the Beruna River and closer to the source of the banging.

The trees became sparser the further they went, and voices of men yelling and talking mixed in with the sound of construction and the rhythmic banging that continued to shake the ground below them. Without warning they broke through the trees and entered the rocky banks of the Beruna. Men were scattered along the desolate shore, scrambling about like ants in an upturned bed.

Edmund crawled further onto the bank and crouched behind a group of logs surrounded by low hanging branches. Only yards away a cluster of men were cutting trees and stripping them of their bark. Soon everyone joined him.

"There's your source of the banging," said Trumpkin as he pointed out a large machine driving gigantic posts into the ground. "They're making a bridge large enough for artillery."

"They're preparing for war," commented Cara.

"Perhaps this wasn't the best way to come," Susan whispered to Peter, for it seemed that they had no hope of crossing without being seen.

"Maybe we should leave, Peter," Edmund added only moments as he watched a group of men walking towards their place of hiding. With a nod, Peter turned from the log and started for the woods. Just as the others rose to follow him, an arrow whizzed passed Lucy's head and struck the tree beside her. Her eyes grew wide in shock and a small scream escaped her month. More arrows ensued, accompanied by the sounds of men yelling.

"Stay low to the ground," shouted Edmund, "and move as quickly as possible."

"Peter, grab your sister and Edmund and get out of here. Trumpkin. Susan. Your bows, now!" Cara yelled as she grabbed a few of her daggers.

Too worried about the well-being of his family to argue, Peter grabbed Lucy by the arm and pulled her up the hill with Edmund trailing not far behind trying to keep any arrows from piercing his sister. The remaining three stumbled and crawled up the hill as they attempted to dissuade the Telmarine soldiers from pursuing them. Trumpkin let the first arrow fly, killing a soldier instantly. The death brought more yells but fewer pursuers. Seeing that fighting back was working, both Cara and Susan let their weapons go, each killing one of their own.

"Come on!" Peter yelled from above them. Although most of the men refused to enter the woods in pursuit, those with bows were relentless. Arrows continued to fly past them as they struggled up the slippery hill.

"Aim higher!" a gruff voiced man ordered from just outside of the wood. Cara glanced up to see Peter and Edmund trying to avoid arrows while still protecting Lucy.

"They're trying to trap us," Casa said to Susan and Trumpkin as a horde of men broke through the trees below them.

Seeing the men quickly approaching, Peter turned to Edmund and ordered him to get Lucy as far away as possible. With a swift nod Edmund grabbed his sister's hand and disappeared deeper into the woods.

Although Susan, Cara, and Trumpkin were able to kill nearly three soldiers a piece, they still continued to come in droves, seemingly undeterred by the death of their comrades. After using her last dagger on a soldier attacking Susan, Cara grabbed her sword and plunged it into the stomach of a Telmarine just as he was about to strike her. His dead weight lurched forward causing Cara to fall onto her back and slide downward a few feet. The weight pushed her deeper into the ground; the soldier's armor digging into her chest and pelvis. Cara's breath began to come in bursts, her lungs struggling to fill under the pressure.

Susan stood only feet away, but the distance seemed like miles to Cara. Around her, both the gentle Queen and Trumpkin continued to fight completely unaware of her situation. Cara struggled to find something—anything—to get the attention of someone. Her hand moved over the rough ground beneath her searching with growing anxiety. Finally her palm felt the jagged edges of a rock, and with her remaining power she grabbed it and lobbed it at Susan.

The Queen came to Cara instantly, and with great effort on both their parts, Cara was able to breathe again. She gasped and sputtered as she climbed to her feet. Once steady, Cara grabbed her blade from the stomach of the dead soldier and followed Susan further away from the oncoming soldiers.

"Trumpkin get up here!" Peter yelled as he ran down the slope towards Susan and Cara. The dwarf was yards below them, killing soldiers as if he was twice their size.

"Get into deeper woods and find cover," Peter ordered the two Queens.

"But Pet—!" Cara started, but was cut off by the look in Peter's eyes. His order was final, and not even Cara could disobey. With one last look, the two parted.

Susan and Cara found Edmund and huddled underneath the shady branches of an ancient oak. Lucy ran out when she saw Susan and wrapped her arms tightly around her torso.

"Thank Aslan you are alright," she said, "but where is Peter? And Trumpkin?"

"Not far behind us," Cara answered, silently praying that she was right. Thick, uncomfortable silence filled the air as they waited for Peter and Trumpkin. Edmund paced with his hand clutched firmly on the hilt of his sword, while Susan and Lucy hugged each other tightly and stared in the direction of the hill. Cara's lungs felt tight once again, and her heart beat frantically in her chest.

Suddenly the sound of crunching leaves met their ears. Everyone stood up straighter and watched the trees ahead of them, hoping that Peter and Trumpkin were the cause of the noise and not the soldiers.

Their prayers were answered when Trumpkin and Peter ran through the trees, both panting heavily and covered in grime. The D.L.F. seemed completely unharmed, but Peter's shoulder was covered in a deep red.

"Are you wounded?" Susan asked as she approached her brother. Lucy followed her with worried eyes and her hand clasping her cordial.

"No," he said between deep breathes. "It's someone else's. Come on; we need to keep moving."

When Peter went to walk off his eyes met Cara's, and she instantly knew he was lying, but in silence he pleaded with her to keep his secret. As before, Cara obeyed.

Tired and deflated, Peter led the group back to the gorge. Although he walked with a tightened jaw and a steady step, it was easy to tell that the world seemed to be weighing down upon him. The gorge was an utter failure. Beruna was an utter failure. Morning came and went and took with it the hopes of reaching Caspian by breakfast.

Peter watched as the sun reached its peek in the sky and rolled down the other side of the world, his mind filling with thoughts of better days. Days when being High King seemed easy. Days when decisions came naturally and always worked. Days when he did not feel the need to prove himself.

Lost in his thoughts, Peter did not notice as he walked through the brambles once again, or as he slowly approached the edge of the Rush River, its high walls stretching out before him.

"The only way to cross is to fall," said Trumpkin as the group lined up beside the gorge and stared down at the trickling waters below. "Who's first?"

Finally shaken from his thoughts, Peter ignored the D.L.F.'s remark and turned to Lucy. "So… where exactly did you think you saw Aslan?"

"I wish you all would stop trying to sound like grownups," she responded as she walked closer to the gorge. "I didn't think I saw him; I did see him."

"I am a grownup," Trumpkin said under his breath; his words only loud enough for Edmund to hear.

Everyone watched as Lucy walked dangerously close to the gorge's rock face, her eyes busy scanning the opposite bank. "It was right over—"

Without warning the flimsy bank cracked and Lucy's mouth emitted a high pitched scream. Susan called for her sister and ran to the side of the gorge, but it was too late, for the ground gave way and Lucy tumbled down with it. As quickly as the excitement came, it left, and as the dust cleared all fears were squashed, for Lucy sat unharmed only a few feet below the rest of them.

"...here," Lucy finished her previous statement as she glanced around. Only feet to her left a small path twisted its way down the side of the cliff. Whether or not the young Queen had seen Aslan was no longer important. A way across was found, and Caspian was now only hours away.

Cara looked to Peter and smiled. Everyone smiled. Hope and energy returned to the group with vigor, and with joy-filled laughs, everyone climbed down the small hole that Lucy created and started down the winding path.

With Lucy leading the way, the company managed to help each other to the bottom in only half an hour's time. Once their toes were able to touch the Rush River, they dipped their hands into the cool water and drank. After quenching their thirst, they washed their faces and cooled their arms, before falling back into line behind Lucy and slowly staggering across the slippery rocks that lined the river's floor.

Lucy nearly fell as they crossed the trickling river, but the helpful hand of the D.L.F. steadied her feet, and with a quick smile the two friends continued on their way. Cara kept a steady eye on Peter's shoulder as they continued to travel forward. The bleeding seemed to have stopped, but infection was possible with Peter's dirty clothes and the incessant heat. Cara hoped that they would be able to reach Caspian—not _King_ Caspian, mind you—by nightfall, but as the sun continued her journey downward, it seemed that another campsite was in the near future.

Although the walk down the gorge was short and full of smiles, the walk up was quite the opposite. Bushes, trees, and brambles covered the path in numerous places, making the walk far more treacherous and inconveniently longer. Peter, who quickly took over the job of leading the way, managed to bump his shoulder on the branch of a tree while helping Susan cross a small gap in the path. His wound immediately started bleeding again, and despite his best efforts to cover it up, both Cara and Susan noticed only moments after it happened. Neither said anything, but both shared a glance that indicated that Peter's secret was common knowledge between them.

After nearly an hour of upward struggle, the gorge finally lay behind them. Hungry and tired, everyone agreed to walk only slightly further inland before finding a cozy spot to set up camp. The thought of eating and sleeping brought about a small amount of joy into the group, and Trumpkin immediately began discussing the way he planned to cook the bear meat they had stashed away in their pockets.

The mention of bear meat caused everyone to quicken their pace and search the area for a perfect place to rest. Not ten minutes into their walk, everyone settled on a small patch of earth surrounded by fallen logs and moss. Peter and Edmund instantly emptied out their pockets and passed the meat off to the dwarf. Once their pockets were good and empty, the boys walked off in search of dry wood, while the girls found comfortable spots to rest their tired legs.

Not long after the Kings left, they returned with arms full of dry wood. Soon a steady fire was blazing with meat and apples roasting happily upon it. Everyone sat around the fire staring at the meat as it sizzled and popped. Once Trumpkin deemed it ready, greedy hands grabbed for the juiciest pieces of meat. Although it was far from a home-cooked meal, the meat was tender and filled with the flavor of roasted apple; a combination that everyone agreed was quite good.

After nearly twenty minutes of silent eating, stomachs were full and eye lids were heavy. Edmund and Trumpkin instantly found a comfortable position and closed their eyes, for the day was nearly gone and the sounds of night were fast approaching. Lucy rolled on her back and stared wide eyed at the stars, the constellations bright against the dark sky.

Susan looked to Cara, both agreeing silently that one of them needed to tend to Peter's shoulder. With a nod, Cara indicated that she would handle the wound. Susan gave her a smile of thanks before rolling onto her side and falling into a dreamless sleep.

As quietly as she could, Cara made her way to Peter and took a seat beside him. The High King smiled affectionately at her before returning his eyes to the glowing flames before him.

"Let me look at your shoulder," Cara said softly, her eyes not leaving his face. Peter sighed and absentmindedly ran his and over his wound.

"It's fine, really. No one needs to look at it," he responded.

"I'm not asking you, Peter," said Cara, her eyes still focused. Uncomfortable under her stare, Peter pulled his gaze away from the fire and looked intently back at her. It was obvious from the look on Cara's face that she truly was not asking, so with another loud, obnoxious sigh, Peter turned his body and offered her his shoulder.

Cara carefully rolled up the sleeve of Peter's tunic and looked thoroughly at the wound. Truly it was not bad, but it did need to be cleaned and bandaged to thwart infection.

"You should probably be wearing your armor," Cara commented softy as she ripped the cleanest part of her dress and attempted to clean the dried blood away from Peter's arm.

"It's just so bloody hot," Peter replied; his voice slightly strained by the pain Cara was inadvertently inflicting upon him.

"Carrying it is nearly as hot, Peter, and if you had it on this wouldn't have happened," she replied.

"I didn't expect we would be attacked," he explained, before tightening his jaw and looking up to the sky. Cara's fingers worked skillfully around the wound, trying to rid it of dirt and grime. Although she tried to be careful, her fingers would occasionally slip or be too harsh, causing a sharp pain to travel through Peter's arm.

"My lord, woman," Peter said as he pulled his shoulder from Cara's grasp. "I believe I've had enough probing for tonight." Cara responded by pulling his shoulder back and sending Peter a harsh look. With another wince, Peter gave in and returned his eyes to the stars.

"I made so many mistakes today," he muttered to himself, his mind still recalling the failures they endured. Cara looked sadly up at him, carefully taking in the curve of his jaw and the sadness in his expression.

"We all make mistakes, Peter," Cara responded. Feeling her eyes upon him, Peter glanced down and smiled softly.

"I suppose that's true. You did tell me not to go to the gorge, and that is precisely where we were able to cross," he said will a mischievous look.

"You are such a prat," Cara said with a chuckle. "I was the one that voted we should look around, though," she added moments later.

"Your only saving argument," mumbled Peter causing Cara to laugh once again.

Unbeknownst to the quietly talking King and Queen, a third party still lay awake. Lucy's eyes continued to gaze up at the stars as she listened to her brother and Cara talk deep into the night. Peter's voice held a warmth that she had never heard in it before. Just once she chanced a quick look, but the two were so engrossed with each other that Lucy could have watched them all night without notice.

As Cara and Peter curled up beside each other and fell in a deep sleep, Lucy turned her gaze away from them and looked to the trees. Faces emerged and disappeared as she watched them, the leaves creating eyes and mouths as they danced in the cool night air. From a distance a breeze approached, and carried upon it was the deep rumbling of a lion's roar.


	8. The Telmarine and His Troops

_I have a feeling that most of my readers haven't/didn't realize that I switched some things around when I posted chapter 7. I went ahead and put the prologue and chapter 1 together, so everything got moved up. I was also brilliant and posted Chapter 6 again instead of Chapter 7. With that said, make sure that you have read the actual chapter 7 entitled "Of Slippery Slopes and Men" before you read this chapter. Sorry if there was confusion and I also want to mention that things (like dialogue ect.) are probably going to change slightly to better fit with the addition of Cara. _

_Ps-The chapter was hell for me to write, so I'm sorry if it isn't up to par with the ones before it. _

Chapter 8

The Telmarine and His Troops

Lucy awoke with a jump. Beside her the fire was nothing more than streams of smoke and flickering orange coals. Morning had come, yet Lucy never recalled falling asleep. She could swear that only moments ago she was dancing with the trees and speaking to Aslan, and yet, here she was, still by the fire and surrounded by the sounds of dawn.

"Susan," she whispered. "Wake up."

The gentle Queen responded by mumbling softly and rolling onto her stomach. Undeterred by her sister, Lucy sat up straighter and surveyed the area around her, which was glistening with morning dew. Everything was still and quiet save for a few birds that fluttered away as if frightened. Small streams of sun reflected off of the ground around Lucy she rose quietly and walked to the closest tree, whose branches hung low without movement or life.

"You danced last night," Lucy said as she ran her hand over the bark of the large birch. "I swear I saw you dance."

The sound of cracking sticks caused Lucy to look past the tree and deep into the woods. Her eyes saw nothing, but the sound continued. Without glancing back, Lucy walked passed the walls of the campsite and further into the forest. Her feet stepped lightly as she sauntered through the winding trees; each step feeling familiar and safe; each step leading her to the place where Aslan spoke to her during the night.

Soon a path spread out before her and the trees that lined it stood like reminders from a distant dream. Lucy stared beyond their bark and leaves, attempting to find the faces that danced beside her during the night. _Trees_ she whispered repeatedly. _Wake up and dance again._

Lucy waited with baited breath for the trees to show any sign of life. Although a slight breeze stirred their leaves, the trees remained as silent and still as they were before. Casting her eyes once more over her quiet partners, Lucy continued to walk deeper into the woods, the sound of feet still echoing around her.

As Lucy's feet led her to a large boulder covered with moss, the low rumble of a growl met her ears. "Aslan!" she said with excitement and attempted to move past the boulder, but a strong hand wrapped around her mouth and pulled her back. Lucy's heart pounded as she looked back at the face of the person that grabbed her. Relief filled her when Peter's eyes met hers and his palm released her mouth.

Lucy went to speak when Peter indicated for her to be silent. Her look of confusion caused Peter to point over her shoulder and beyond the large boulder. The young Queen turned immediately and caught site of a minotaur lumbering through the trees. He wore a set of silver armor and carried two axes across his back. As Lucy watched him with wide eyes, Peter moved quietly passed her and unsheathed his sword.

Peter approached the minotaur silently, his knees bent as he slinked along the ground. With his eyes completely focused on the creature before him, Peter did not notice the dark figure that trailed only feet behind him. Seeing that his opportunity was dwindling, Peter's follower pulled his sword from its sheath and jetted out from behind a large tree. Having caught to High King off guard, the assailant swung his sword with a great deal of force, nearly knocking Rhindon, the great sword given to Peter by Father Christmas, from the High King's hands.

Although alarmed, Peter returned the attack with just as much power, which caused his opponent to fumble backwards. Seeing a moment of opportunity, Peter used the hilt of his sword to strike his assailant in the jaw. The hit sent him fumbling back further, but he was able to regain his balance and assail Peter with another round of blows.

Not a hundred yards away Cara's eyes were fluttering open. A slow smile spread across her face as she recalled waking in the night and finding Peter's hand comfortably on top of hers. With the warmth of happiness inside of her, Cara yawned and stretched before turning onto her back and sitting up. Across from her Susan seemed to be doing the same. Immediately, Cara felt that something was wrong, for the woods seemed silent and still. She glanced around the campsite, before looking directly at Susan.

"Where is Peter?" she asked hurriedly.

"Where is Lucy?" Susan replied looking just as worried. As if on cue, the unmistakable sound of swords met their ears. Cara jumped up from the ground and grabbed her blade, while Susan reached for her arrows and yelled at Edmund and Trumpkin to rise.

Leaving Susan behind, Cara followed the sounds of clashing swords until she came into a clearing where she found Lucy huddled behind a boulder as Peter fought with another boy. Cara watched as Peter swung his blade towards his opponent's head, but the boy ducked just in time causing the blade to wedge itself into the bark of a tree. Finding Peter without a sword, the boy kicked him in the side and sent him flying backwards. With little thought, Cara unsheathed her sword and ran at the boy just as Peter clutched a large rock in his hand and charged him.

"No stop!" Lucy yelled as she ran towards them. Upon hearing Lucy's plea, both royals ceased their attack only feet from the boy. Cara glanced at Peter when, seemingly out of nowhere, minotaurs, dwarves, centaurs, fauns, and an abundance of talking creatures began to appear all around them. Cara's attention went back to the attacker when he pulled Peter's sword from the tree and held it defensively.

"Drop it," she said as she moved her sword towards his neck. The boy looked at Cara with wide, dark eyes.

"Cara, wait," Peter said as he glanced around. Finally dropping the rock, Peter looked back at the boy. "Prince Caspian?" he asked. Seeing Peter at ease, Cara sheathed her sword and stepped back until she was beside him.

"Yes," the boy responded with a look of confusion, "but who are you?"

With perfect timing, Susan appeared around the corner with Trumpkin and Edmund trailing behind her. "Peter!" she yelled as she came to stand beside Lucy.

Caspian glanced at the sword in his hand before returning his eyes to Peter. "High King Peter?" he asked with a bewildered expression.

"I believe you called," Peter responded.

"Well yes, but I'd thought you'd be older," Caspian explained, his words causing Cara to shoot him a look of disgust.

"We can come back in a few years," Peter said as he grabbed Cara's hand and went to walk away.

"No! No, don't go. You're just…you're just not exactly what I expected," Caspian responded as his eyes swept over Cara and Peter before moving to Edmund, Lucy, and Susan.

"Well neither are you," Edmund said defensively as he glanced over the creatures that once fought on the side of the White Witch, before allowing his eyes to land on the dark haired Telmarine before him.

Seeing the obvious tension, Trufflehunter the badger walked forward a few steps and looked to Edmund. "A common enemy unites even the oldest of foes," he explained.

"We have anxiously awaited your return, my Liege. Our hearts and swords are at your service," said a gallant mouse as he appeared from behind a tree and bowed to Peter. A feather stuck out behind his earring of gold, and a sword hung at his side. "And if I am not mistaken," he said as he turned to Cara, "you are the Lady Cara; the High Queen that led our people into battle against the Telmarines when first they came."

"I am," responded Cara with a smile.

"Then, your Majesty, it will be an honor to fight beside you as my ancestors did," the mouse said with another deep bow.

"He is so cute," Lucy whispered to Susan just as Cara went to respond. Overhearing the comment, the mouse rose from his bow and moved his eyes about. "What? Who said that," he asked as he pulled his sword from its sheath. Lucy gave him a bashful look and stepped forward.

"Sorry," she said softly.

"Oh! Your Majesty," the mouse said as he stood up straighter and looked to the Queen. "With the greatest respect, I do believe courageous, courteous, or chivalrous might more befit a knight of Narnia."

"Well," said Peter once the mouse finished his speech and placed his sword back in its sheath, "at least we know some of you can handle a blade."

"Yes indeed," the mouse responded with another bow.

"Good," answered Peter as he turned to face Caspian. "Because we're going to need every sword we can get." Cara looked to the boy as well, their eyes meeting for a moment. Noticing the placement of Caspian's eyes, Peter put his hand protectively on Cara's shoulder.

"Well then, you will probably be wanting yours back," Caspian said as he took his eyes off of Cara and handed Peter back his sword. Even though Cara did not trust the boy, she could not help but laugh at his retort, which caused Peter to instantly drop his hand from her shoulder.

With a cold stare, Peter took his sword and sheathed it, before turning and walking back towards the campsite. "We need to finish getting our things; then we will head to Aslan's How," Peter said over his shoulder. Cara glanced once more at Caspian before following after Peter. Soon Edmund fell into line as well, for his armor still lay in a heap beside a rotting log.

"How is your shoulder?" Cara asked softly as she came to walk beside Peter, concerned that the fight had damaged it further.

"It's fine," he responded, but offered nothing more.

"What happened to your shoulder, Pete?" Edmund asked in confusion.

"Nothing happened," Peter answered and quickened his pace. Disgusted with his attitude, Cara sped up her pace as well and whacked Peter in the shoulder.

"Bloody hell, woman," he said as he grabbed his arm and winced.

"Oh, do forgive me. I thought you said that nothing happened," Cara retorted. Peter glared at her while still rubbing his shoulder. Edmund hid a chuckle behind his hand as he watched the two royals interact.

"Well something damn well happened now," Peter responded, but his face softened as he noticed the look of distant concern in Cara's, even though she tried to shield it with a frown.

"Ed," Peter said as he looked at his brother, "Cara and I can tend to the campsite. Try and get everyone ready for the journey to the How."

"Right, Pete," Edmund said with a knowing smile.

As soon as Edmund was out of site, Peter turned to Cara with an uneasy look. "Would you mind taking a look at it?" he asked softly.

"Of course," Cara responded. "Let us get to the campsite first." Peter nodded and followed Cara through the winding trees. When they came upon the campsite, the fire was still spewing smoke and both Peter and Edmund's armor was cast across the ground.

Cara ushered Peter to a log where he took a seat before she knelt down beside him and carefully rolled up his tunic sleeve. A small line of yellow shown through the bandage she had created the night before.

"Bullocks," Cara said softly as she looked over the wound, causing Peter to look down at her with concerned eyes. "You need a healer, Peter. I don't know enough to tend to this," she explained.

"We can find a healer at the How," he said as he began to roll his sleeve back down.

"You could tell Lucy. Can she not fix this?" asked Cara. Peter sighed in response and began to toss dirt onto the fire.

"Her cordial should be saved for more dire injuries," he explained.

"If it gets infected it will be a dire injury," Cara answered as she gathered together Edmund's armor into her hands. Peter made no response, opting instead to finish putting out the fire and pulling together his things. Not wanting to enter into another argument, Cara decided to remain silent as well, and the two simply continued their work in peace.

Once the campsite barely looked as if anyone had been there, both Cara and Peter wandered back to where everyone else had gathered together. It seemed that Edmund did what Peter had asked, for the entire company was waiting patiently in a sort of disarrayed line for their High King and Queen to return.

Peter and Cara walked to the front of the line where Caspian stood with Susan and Edmund. The Prince immediately stood up straighter when he saw Peter approach, which caused Cara to laugh quietly to herself. Peter glanced at her as they walked, a smile forming on his face.

"Something funny?" he asked.

"No," Cara replied, her eyes remaining on Caspian, "not at all." Peter followed her gaze until his eyes landed upon Caspian. Instantly his smile turned into a frown.

"Shall we then?" Peter asked in a cold tone as he and Cara approached the small group. Cara glanced at him while handing Edmund his armor, confused by his sudden change in demeanor.

"Cara!" said Lucy excitedly as she ran towards the High Queen. Following behind her was the badger that spoke earlier and another dwarf, who had dark, clumped hair and beady eyes. "This is Trufflehunter and Nikabrik. They are the ones that found Caspian," Lucy explained.

"I recall the names from Trumpkin's story," Cara answered. "It is a pleasure to meet both of you, although I do not see the intelligence in bringing a Telmarine so openly into your home." Nikabrik smiled instantly at her words, while Trufflehunter sent her a small glare.

"If I may, your Majesty, the boy is different and has not led us astray as of yet," responded Trufflehunter. Cara glanced intently at the Prince who stood only yards away before responding.

"Badgers are known for their wisdom, and for this reason I will trust your judgment."

Trufflehunter smiled in response and bowed his head at Cara, who cast another glance at Caspian, silently berating herself for feeling such negativity towards the boy when he was obviously well liked by everyone else. Even so, the Queen was not prepared to put her full trust into the hands of a Telmarine.

"Caspian," Peter said from beside Cara as he began to walk in the direction of the How, "walk with me, we have much to discuss." Caspian quickly fell into line beside Peter, and the two began a deep discussion about weapons and troops.

Soon everyone else began to move forward behind the High King and the Prince. Cara wished to be beside Peter and able to add her input into the situation, but the High King's demeanor indicated that she was not welcome into the conversation. For this reason, Cara walked between Susan and Edmund, talking and laughing about finally eating real food and the possibility of having a bath.

"Simply washing my face would be wonderful," Susan commented as she rubbed a smudge of dirt from her cheek that Edmund had happily pointed out.

"Not having to lug this armor around wouldn't be half bad either," added Edmund, and truly he was right, for every few feet he seemed to drop something.

During one of these instances, a dwarf traveling behind the three royals tripped and skidded over Edmund's helmet—which seemed to be the piece that never wanted to stay put—and landed directly on top of the brave mouse Reepicheep that had only an hour earlier sworn his allegiance and his sword to the High King.

The gallant mouse immediately called to arms his troop of mice, for he was wedged rather uncomfortably between the ground and the dwarf's over sized stomach, and since he was unable to see, he truly believed that he was under attack. Always prepared for an order, the troop of mice ran quickly to the aid of their leader with their swords drawn.

In the process of all this, the dwarf was trying very hard to rise from the ground, but the relentless yelling of the mouse underneath him and the sudden pain of many small swords poking into him, made it very difficult to do so. Finally, a rather harsh jab from Reepicheep's second in command enticed the dwarf enough to leap from the ground and go directly up Susan's dress, for the Queen had stopped amidst the commotion to see what the matter was.

Being the lady that she is, Susan screamed and fell backwards away from the dwarf, who came out of under her dress with an absolute look of despair. The site was so amusing that Cara and Edmund erupted into laughter, which seemed to only build for the two kept making eye contact and feeding each other's fires.

Susan attempted to glare at the two as the dwarf pleaded his apology, but the humor in the situation was far too great for her to sport a frown, and soon nearly everyone that witnessed the fall began to laugh.

So amused by the situation, Cara went to tell Peter of what he had missed, but the King's back was ridged in front of her and he seemed to be deep in thought as Caspian talked beside him. Cara felt a sudden interest in the conversation, and with her newly heightened spirits she jogged slightly until she walked only paces back from the two leaders.

During her evaluation of Peter, Cara was correct in one assumption and completely wrong in another. Peter was, indeed, deep in thought, but his mind was paying little attention to the words of the Prince beside him. Although Peter had attempted to ignore the sounds behind him and give full notice to Caspian, Cara's voice kept ringing through his ears and making it difficult to concentrate. It seemed that nearly everyone was laughing and talking, but the only voice that Peter could hear was Cara's.

"What do you suggest?" Caspian asked, ending his explanation on their lack of equipment and weapons.

"I'm sorry?" Peter asked, for his mind was elsewhere and missed Caspian's question. The dark haired Prince gave Peter a stern look before repeating his question.

"What do you suggest we do about weapons? We have troops, but so few of them are armed," Caspian explained again.

"How far is the Telmarine camp from here?" a voice said from behind them. Both Peter and Caspian turned to see the smiling face of Cara only a few feet back.

"Eves dropping, Cara?" Peter asked with a smirk, for he was unable to stay angry when she smiled like that.

"Hardly," she responded. "You simply speak too loud." Peter's smirk was washed from his face at Cara's words, but Caspian's face now emitted a smile.

"How far is the camp?" she asked again, her eyes completely on Caspian.

"Only two hours from here. The base of the camp is on the damaged banks of Beruna, where they continue to destroy the forest," Caspian explained, his face displaying a look of confusion.

"What are you thinking, Cara?" Peter asked as the Queen came to walk between the two boys.

"Why not take their weapons?" Cara asked with a raised eyebrow. Caspian smiled after a few moments, an idea working its way through his head.

"Night raids," he said softly.

"Exactly."

"That might actually work," Peter said almost to himself, before raising his voice and looking at Caspian.

"You know these troops better than I. We will need a small, stealthy group that can enter the camp without notice," he explained with a commanding tone. Caspian nodded in understanding and the group quickly fell into conversation as they created a plan and straightened out the details.

Soon nearly an hour had passed and the company began to see the distant light of the fields that surrounded Aslan's How. Lucy ran forward once the edge of the woods was visible and twirled around with her eyes staring up into the bright sky. Cara stopped as her feet met the tall, thick grass of the land, and her eyes swept over the valley before her and the stone mound that stood like a relic in the sun, covered over and hidden by trees and brush.

"Your How still stands," Caspian said as he watched her glance around.

"Your How?" Peter asked in confusion.

"Indeed," Cara replied with a smile. "I built it."

_Reviews make the world go round :)_


	9. Visions from the Past

_Hey everyone! Thank you oh so much for the reviews. I had a great time writing this chapter, so hopefully you will enjoy reading it. Please review :)_

Chapter 9

Visions from the Past

"You built this?" Peter asked incredulously as he and Cara walked through the tall grass that flourished within the small valley. Before them, the How stood like an ancient monument sheltered by the ever changing landscape. Small patches of stone were visible between gaps of trees and vines, and only one small hole in the very front indicated that there was an entrance. It was a place of hiding and a place of the past, both thriving with new life and encompassing the stories of the old.

"Well not personally," Cara responded with a laugh, "but I had it built."

"And we thank Aslan everyday that you did," Caspian added from a few paces in front of them.

Lucy walked beside him, with her hands full of wild flowers and her hair long and free behind her. Cara watched the young Queen as her eyes absorbed the beauty and happiness of the landscape, and as she did, she began to recall the days when she too was carefree and full of life.

Cara's first skirmishes with the Telmarines always ended in success, the small battles and night thievery, more like an adventure than a struggle for power and life. Once crowned, the restoration of the Stone Table and the stories of Narnia's past came first in the line of responsibilities. A fortress of marble and granite was erected around the table where Aslan was reborn, and paintings illustrating the stories of old covered the walls in vibrant color and life.

The How became a place of celebration and joy, but only a year after its completion, the ocean's waters became dark with Telmarine ships, and the place of worship turned into a place of hiding, for the Telmarines feared the monument, believing that the soul of the Great Lion dwelled within its walls.

As battles continued, and Cara was forced to leave behind her gowns and replace them with armor, those hiding within the How's walls dug tunnels and built rooms, making it one large, dark sanctuary for those that sill believed in the power of the Lion.

It is for this reason that the How brought a flood of emotions into Cara as she walked before it. Not long after the Telmarines attacked, the How lost its mystery that kept it safe and the place of worship turned into nothing more than a steadily filling tomb. The entrance to the How used to be open and wide and the roof bare of any trees or brush, but in a struggle to keep the last remaining refuge for those living beyond Cair Paravel hidden, the entrance was closed until it was nothing more than a small hole, and the landscape was encouraged to grow upon it.

The precautions kept the How alive, but as Cara walked into its dark interior, she could not help but feel that death still hung thick upon its walls.

"Are you alright?" Peter whispered into Cara's ear as they walked down the corridor that led to the heart of the How. His voice was warm and soothing, its power flowing like honey through Cara's veins.

She responded with a simple nod, her mind too intoxicated by the man beside her to speak. Peter watched Cara in silence, his mind memorizing the way her hair looked in the torch light and the way her gown clutched her petite curves. Caspian walked feet in front of them, his eyes occasionally glancing back and taking in the High Queen, each time causing the beast in Peter to raise its head.

Cara was unaffected and completely oblivious to the small battle going on around her. Peter walked so closely to her side, that her mind could think of nothing but the feel of his fingers as they slowly brushed hers and the way that hearing his voice managed to banish all evils from her mind.

As they continued down the corridor the air became thicker and cooler, for beyond the stones walls dirt and earth surrounded them. The sounds of blacksmiths working and creatures talking began to drift through the corridor, and with one last turn a gigantic room opened in front of them. Torches covered the walls and illuminated the chamber, the flickering light displaying hundreds of Narnians working to ensure their survival.

Many stopped when Caspian walked into the room tailed by Cara and the Pevensies, their eyes wide with amazement and hope at the site of their ancient monarchs. Peter stepped past Caspian and walked fully into the room, his jaw squared and his hand resting on the hilt of Rhindon. Soon Edmund and Susan followed with Lucy trailing close behind. They took their place beside Peter with pride, causing a silence to envelope the room that filled everyone's hearts with anticipation and squashed the fears that once ran rapid through the Narnian people.

Slowly the watching eyes left the Pevensies and landed on Cara and Caspian. The High Queen lifted her chin, while the young Prince cast his gaze down under the heavy stares. Peter offered Cara his hand, and pulled her slowly forward when her soft palm met his. Susan stepped aside slightly and allowed Cara to take her place beside Peter. With all of their sovereigns before them, the creatures of Narnia bowed their heads showing their respect.

"Narnians," Peter's voice rang out. "Long have the Telmarines believed that this land belonged to them. Let us come from the woods and hollows. Let us step forth from the holes and water. Let us show them whose land this truly is."

A great roar of voices and clapping erupted at Peter's words. Cara turned to Peter with a warm smile, her hand still clasped comfortably in his, and as she gazed at the High King, she felt for the first time that the Telmarines could be overcome.

"It may not be what you are used to," Caspain said to Peter once the applause died down and the Narnians returned to their work. "But it is defensible."

"For the time being," Cara said as she walked beside the Prince and the High King, her eyes taking in the way that the How had changed over the years, and the things that remained hauntingly the same. Lucy and Susan had wandered off, both exploring their new home, while Edmund walked amongst the Narnians shaking hands and offering his assistance.

"We have to make do with what we have," Caspian replied as he looked down at the petite Queen.

"It's only a matter of time before the Telmarines complete that bridge and locate this—this—hole in the ground. What will you do then, Prince? What will you do when the doors of the How are blocked by the rubble of catapults and the people of Narnia are pushed further under ground and further away from the light of day and the feeling of warmth?" Cara asked in a cold tone.

Caspian was unable to reply, and the weight of their situation finally seemed to sink into him and sit upon his heart. Cara's expression softened as she watched the Prince's expression go from hurt to sadness and fear.

"This place is not defensible, Caspian," she said softly. "I too made that mistake once, and it nearly cost me my life, as well as the lives of my people." His face still lost, Cara placed her hand on his shoulder and smiled softly. "You are not alone in this."

Her last words seemed to warm Caspian's core, for he returned her smile and placed the palm of his hand upon hers. Peter watched the too with disgust, the animal in him raising its head once again at the site of Caspian's hand upon Cara's.

"Yes, thank Aslan you are not alone" Peter said suddenly, his voice slightly bitter. Cara immediately pulled her hand from Caspian's shoulder and looked at Peter with confusion.

"Peter," Susan said as she appeared from the head of another corridor. The King took his eyes from Cara and looked to his sister. "You might want to see this."

"Cara," she added a moment later, "you as well."

Soon the four Pevensies, Cara, and Caspian stood in a darkened chamber whose walls were nothing but carved stone and dirt. Upon them, faint pictures shown when the flickering flames of the torch offered enough light. The four monarchs were displayed in an array of smudged colors, their entire tale covering the wall. Lucy's eyes caught site of an image of Mr. Tumnus standing beside the lamp post, and her heart swelled with sadness. With a shaky hand, she reached towards the wall and allowed her fingers to rub over the drawing.

"It's us," Susan said softly as she scanned the images with sadness in her eyes. Cara glanced over the images as well, taking in the Pevensies arrival into Narnia and the hunt of the White Stag when they left.

"Did you have these done?" Peter asked as his hand brushed against on image of Aslan.

"No," Cara replied softly. "I asked for carvings, and those surround the room which encompasses the Stone Table."

"There's more," Susan said as she took Cara's hand and led her around a corner. Caspian followed with a torch, and when the light illuminated the walls Cara let out a shaky breath. Before her were more images; images that displayed her story and her past.

"Dapplestone," she said softly as her finger traced the face of a centaur carrying a small bundle in his arms. The Pevensies gathered behind her as she looked over the images with sadness and growing excitement.

"This is the centaur that found me as a child," Cara explained before moving to the next depiction, "and this is Briartail, his wife. They were my family until Aslan came to me."

Next came an image of Telmarines being pushed from the wood, a young Cara leading the attack with the Great Lion at her side, and beside it was Cara's coronation with Dapplestone placing a crown upon her head and two horses beside her, one with the wings of an eagle and the other shielded in golden armor. Cara looked at the image with pain. "They were gifts," she said softly. "Gifts from the stars."

Lucy placed her small hand into Cara's and squeezed, her presence encouraging the Queen to continue. "Altair," she said as she pointed to the winged horse, "was the only horse to be born with the wings of an eagle. She was my watcher, her eyes seeing beyond the vast ocean and wood."

"What happened to her?" Susan asked in a whisper, for the tone of Cara's voice indicated that death came to the mare.

"Caspian the First harpooned her with an arrow of gold and ripped her wings from her sides. It was punishment for not succumbing to his demands," Cara explained, silent tears swelling in her chest. In the shadows, Caspian's eyes fell to the floor in shame and hate for his people.

"And what of the other," Peter asked and nodded towards the horse wearing the emblem of Aslan upon his chest.

"His name was Alvaro," Cara answered with a slightly happier tone. "He was my guardian, and the only horse I ever rode into battle. He was alive still when Aslan turned me to stone, for nothing made by mortals could pierce his armor."

"Perhaps he returned to the stars, awaiting the day when he can join you in battle once again," Lucy said with a small smile. Cara glanced down at the young Queen and squeezed her hand tightly.

"I hope you are right," she replied.

The remaining pictures depicted the building of the How and the coming of the Telmarine ships, which Cara had little need to explain. Ending the illustrations of the High Queen was an image of her body still and reaching towards something just out of her reach. Peter let out a small chuckle upon seeing it.

"You were reaching with the other hand," he commented when Cara came to look at the image as well.

"You recall which hand I was reaching with?" she asked.

"How could I not?" he responded. "I will never forget the way my left cheek felt when your cold, right palm touched it."

"And how did your cheek feel?" Cara questioned as she stepped closer to the High King, her hand reaching as it did the day he brought life back into her.

"Ablaze," he whispered as Cara's hand once again touched his cheek. His light eyes bore down into her dark ones, causing both of their hearts to race. Cara nearly trembled when Peter's palm rested on top of hers, pushing warmth further into both of their bodies.

"I'm awfully hungry," Lucy said. Her words completely breaking Cara and Peter's contact, for Cara dropped her hand from Peter's face and turned to the Queen.

"I could eat," she said, "as well as take a bath." Susan's eyes lit up at the idea of a bath.

"Truly, feeling clean would be splendid," the older Queen added.

"Follow me," Cara said with a smile and grabbed both Susan and Lucy's hands. Together, the three Queens disappeared down another passage and out of sight.

After a few minutes of walking down corridors, Cara came to a wall that was bare save for one torch. She looked to Lucy and winked before pulling the torch forward. Without warning the wall lurched back and exposed a passage way leading even further into the ground. Cara grabbed the torch before leading the two other Queens into it. Only a few steps down a chamber opened out in front of them. Using the torch, Cara lit a stream of liquid the surrounded the room, which the fire spread across until the entire room was burning with light.

"My private chambers," Cara explained. "We can heat water for a bath and possibly change. Although I doubt any of my dresses are still intact after all these years."

Excited about the possibility of feeling clean, Susan and Cara warmed a few large buckets of water over the fire while Lucy looked around the room. The chamber was built with marble and images of Aslan covered the walls.

"Where exactly is the Stone Table?" Lucy asked suddenly.

"Above us," Cara replied. "The walls that surround it are much higher up, for the Table is nearly at the top of the How."

"I would love to see it," Lucy replied as she came to stand next to Susan who was dipping her fingers into the water to check the temperature.

"Of course," Cara said with a smile as she lifted one of the buckets of water and carried it towards a large basin at the back of the room, "but let us bathe first."

After the basin was filled to the brim with warm water, the girls rid themselves of their dirty clothes and carefully stepped in. Susan gave a happy sigh as she sunk under the water, allowing her dark her to become soaked. Lucy laughed at her sister and did the same, small bubbles escaping her mouth as she sat happily at the bottom of the basin.

"I don't think a bath has ever felt so marvelous," Susan said softly to herself. "I do hope some of your dresses are still wearable, for I will hate myself if I have to put that horrid chainmail on once again."

"Truly," Cara replied before ducking under the water and running her fingers through her unruly tresses.

"Do you ever wonder why Aslan crowed you High Queen?" Lucy asked Cara once both had resurfaced.

"Lucy!" Susan reprimanded, for she thought the question rude.

"It's alright," Cara said with a small laugh. "Often," she replied to Lucy. "I asked Aslan once, but he answer only confused me more. That is until recently."

"Peter," Susan said softly. Cara looked to the Queen before offering a small nod.

The bath ended quickly, for the water did not stay warm long and their stomachs ached with hunger. Cara and Susan held their breath as Cara pulled open the door to her wardrobe, both hoping that new, clean dresses were in their future.

"By Aslan," Susan said as Cara gasped beside her. The wardrobe seemed untouched, just as the Pevensie's things were back at Cair Paravel. Giggling like little girls, Cara and Susan each grabbed a new gown and helped each other get dressed. Once sporting new apparel, Cara searched for something that was small enough to fit Lucy, and even though it was slightly too long, she found a dress of the darkest blue that fit the small Queen quite well.

An hour later, the three Queens sat with Edmund and Peter feeling refreshed in every way possible. Their stomachs were full with a rich beef stew and their bodies were completely clean. Susan and Lucy sent happy glances towards Cara and Peter, who were talking quietly amongst themselves, but Edmund seemed oblivious to the seemingly obvious attraction, for his mind was completely focused on his second bowl of soup.

"We are ready," Caspian said as he entered the small chamber. Peter pushed himself from the ground before helping Cara to her feet, while Edmund quickly slurped down the last of his soup.

After grabbing a torch, Caspian led the group to a tunnel hidden at the back of the room. The royals climbed for nearly ten minutes before another room opened out in front of them. Caspian touched his torch to the stream of liquid just as Cara had done, and soon the room glowed with bright light. The Pevensies looked around the room in wonder, for it was far larger and grander than any of the others they had seen in the How. Pillars of marble supported the walls which were covered in carvings of Aslan and his people. In the middle of the room sat the Stone Table, the largest carving of Aslan directly behind it.

Mesmerized by the image, Lucy walked slowly to the table and placed her small hand upon it. "He must know what he's doing," she said to Susan as she came to stand beside her.

Both Cara and Caspian watched as the Pevensies looked to the Lion before turning to each other. "I think it's up to us now," Peter replied.

Not moments later a small group of Narnians walked into the chamber, all bowing slightly to the monarchs before them.

"Peter," Caspian said as he walked up to the new arrivals. "This is Glenstorm, our general, and his two sons. The others I believe you have met."

Peter turned to the general and bowed his head. "We need to plan a raid," he began as he looked to each member of the group. Reepicheep stood with his troop of mice, while Trumpkin and two minotaurs watched silently from the back. "Our only hope in securing enough weapons is to slip into the Telmarine camp and steal theirs."

"They will surely see us," Trumpkin spoke out, for he truly did not wish to get captured once again.

"Not if we attack at night," Cara responded as she stepped forward. "Only a few—the most quiet few—will actually enter into the camp. The rest of you will wait in the woods as the swords and armor are carried out. No one will even know we were there."

"Who will lead us?" asked Glenstorm.

"I will," Peter, Cara, and Caspian all said at the same time.

"My Lord," Edmund said softly from beside Lucy, causing her to giggle.

"May I offer some advice?" he added in a louder voice.

Everyone looked over at the sound of Edmund's voice and watched as he walked into the center of the group. "Caspian knows this camp and these people, therefore he should lead this raid, but one more of us should go with him, just incase something happens."

"I will go," Cara said instantly, which caused Peter to glare down at her, for thoughts of her and Caspian quickly entered into his mind.

"No, I think I should be the one to go," he responded. "I am the High King and it is my duty to lead these people."

"And I am the High Queen," Cara answered back with defiance in her voice. "My duties are the same as yours."

"For Pete's sake," Edmund cut in. "I will go."

"NO!" both Peter and Cara shouted without looking at the King. Edmund shook his head and slinked off into the corner of the room where Susan was leaning against the wall.

"If I may your Majesty," Reepicheep said as he approached the two royals. "The High Queen knows the Telmarines nearly as well as Caspian. Would her company not be a greater advantage?"

Cara looked at Peter with a smirk before turning away and walking out of the room.

_Please tell me what you think!_


	10. A Little Bit of Thievery

_Thank you all for the lovely reviews, and if you are reading and haven't left a review yet, please do. Just once. I would really like to know what everyone thinks and if you guy like where it's going ect. _

_Anyways, here is chapter 10. I hope you enjoy it! _

Chapter 10

A Little Bit of Thievery

Cara sat upon the top of the How. Her legs were pulled up close to her chin, and her hair blew softly in the wind behind her. The air was warm and filled with the sweet smells of wildflowers and rain. In the distance, lighting lit the slowly darkening sky and the rumble of thunder echoed across the valley.

Below her, walking in the tall grass that stretched before the How, were Peter and Lucy. Peter's powerful voice rang out as he laughed and ran with his younger sibling, both holding hands and enjoying the precursor to the approaching weather. Susan soon joined them, the lavender dress she had found in Cara's wardrobe whipping behind her in the quickly hastening wind. As the skies continued to churn above them, Narnians slowly emerged from the woods and rocks, all making their way into the belly of the How and absorbing the comfort that was offered there.

The plans for the raid were finalized; Peter's orders were clear and precise. Each member of the group was given a specific task, and even though Cara still felt slight resentment towards the High King, his plan was flawless, and if carried out correctly, would end in complete success.

"Cara," Caspian said as his head popped out from a trap door that looked like nothing more than a rock.

"Bloody hell," Cara responded as she jumped slightly, her mind too focused on the three Pevensies to pay any attention to the door.

"Sorry," Caspian said with a bashful smile, "we are nearly ready." Cara cast one last glance at Peter and his siblings before following Caspian through the small door. Both were cloaked it all black with their weapons secured at their sides, for they along with Trumpkin and the troop of mice would be entering the camp and needed to make themselves as inconspicuous as possible.

Cara walked quietly beside Caspian until they came to the middle chamber of the How. There they found the rest of the company, and together they walked forth from the How and out into the thundering night.

Peter stood at the entrance with Lucy and Susan, all three watching the moving sky with wonder, their hair and clothes pushed sideways by the wind. As Cara and Caspian left the How and entered the valley, the rain began to fall in chaotic shifts, the heaven's waters pushed by the gusting wind. Lucy and Susan turned and ran into the How as the waters began to fall, while Peter remained at the head of the opening, his tunic and hair quickly becoming soaked.

"The rain could be a blessing," he shouted over the thunderous roar of the rain as the company came to stand beside him. "This weather will shield you from sight even further."

Edmund came up from the How only moments later, a horse in each of his hands. "Cara will carry Reepicheep and his troop, while Trumpkin can ride behind Caspian," Peter explained as Edmund handed the horses off. "Stick to the plan and nothing will go wrong, but if a problem should arise, those of you that escape shall travel until you come to where we first met today. Edmund and Susan will meet you there if we have no sight of you by morning. Do not return to How if you are seen. We cannot risk being discovered. Is that understood?"

Everyone nodded at Peter's words and began to prepare for their departure. Cara strapped a small bag across her shoulders and allowed Reepicheep and his men to climb into it.

"Please be careful," Peter said as he held her steed while she mounted. "If you return victorious, I promise to have a healer look at my wound." Cara looked down at Peter with a small smile, the wind whipping her wet hair into her face.

"Your plan is foolproof, Peter. I'm afraid that not even I can muck it up," she replied.

"Did you just give me a compliment?" he asked, his hands still secure on her horse's bridle. Cara merely cast him another smile, before pulling her steed out of his hands and galloping after Glenstorm and the minotaurs, who had already set off for the woods.

Beside Peter, Caspian and Trumpkin were just getting settled, for the dwarf was not keen on riding the horse. "Boulders and blunders," he whispered to himself as he latched on to Caspian's cape.

"Caspian," Peter said as he looked to the Prince. "You must cross the river down from the Telmarine camp, for above it the journey is too dangerous on horseback, and near it you risk being discovered. If the banks are slick and the water high, end the mission. It's not worth losing any of you, and for Alsan's sake, what ever you do, make sure that Cara returns unscathed. Make sure they all return unscathed," Peter pleaded.

"You have my word," Caspian shouted as he spurred his horse forward and disappeared into the wall of water.

Edmund and Peter stood side by side staring off into the field before them. The grass lay on its side from the power of the wind, and the forest across the valley was nothing more than a dark blur. "Trust in them, Pete," Edmund said before turning and walking back into the How. Peter remained in his place for a few moments longer, his eyes still staring at the spot where Cara disappeared.

BBBBBBB

Caspian pushed his horse forward, mud and water splashing onto its belly and his legs. Cara galloped only a few strides ahead of him, with Glenstorm and the minotaurs leading the way. The trees were dense and the ground was soft, making the trip treacherous and tiring. Rain continued to pelt the riders as they weaved between the trees and jumped over logs.

Soon the company was forced to slow, for streams of water began to rush between the trees, and rocks began to hinder the path as they steadily made their way closer to the river. Caspian quickly took the lead, and within an hour they had reached the edge of Beruna. Just as Peter had warned, the river was rising quickly under the onslaught of rain, which had caused its banks to become slick and soft.

"We have to cross now," Caspian shouted over the cracking of thunder. Above them the sky glowed with electricity, erupting in brilliant flashes of orange and gold.

"The water is rising too quickly, Caspian," Cara responded from beside him, her dark hair plastered down her back and her lashes thick with water.

He ignored her comment and urged his horse down the steadily depleting bank. Cara looked to Glenstorm, his face was grave, but he followed after Caspian with little hesitation. _Fine_ Cara whispered under her breath and fell into line beside Glenstorm's eldest son.

After sinking deeply into the mud, Cara's horse lurched forward into the water, her legs and dress immediately becoming submerged. Before her, Caspian and the three centaurs were already swimming, the rushing current pushing them steadily further down stream.

Caspian was as flooded with emotion as he was with water. Determination fueled him as he continued to urge his horse forward, the water and rain only a passing thought in his mind. He had to do this. Had to prove that he could, but as the swelling river continued to beat his side, fear began to work its way through his mind. Behind him, Trumpkin's grip was steadily slipping, for the water rushed with fury over the horse's back and forcefully pushed against the dwarf.

Cara watched was the dwarf slipped into the water, his hands still secure on Caspian's cape. The pull of both Trumpkin and the water caused Caspian and his horse to faltered, nearly pulling them under.

"Glenstorm!" Cara yelled to the centaur swimming before her. "Get the dwarf!"

Instantly the centaur pushed himself forward, his body using all of its strength and fortitude to propel him through the water. Just as Trumpkin's hands slipped from the cape, Glenstorm's reached forward and latched on to the top of his shirt. The dwarf came up gurgling and choking, his face contorted in fear.

Free from the pull of Trumpkin, Caspian's horse scrambled to its feet and stumbled up the distant back. Its breathing was labored and steam seeped off its body. Caspian dismounted and collapsed upon the muddied ground, his chest beating erratically.

Glenstorm stumbled out of the river next, Trumpkin held securely in his arms, followed closely by his two sons. Weak with fatigue, Cara's horse attempted to wade through the muck of the bank, but slipped backwards into the water. Luckily, both minotaurs were directly behind her, and with one steady push, both horse and rider were secure on Beruna's shore.

Cara scampered off the horse, its sides convulsing with as much power as Caspian's. Her dress was heavy and cumbersome as she pulled her cloak from her body and looked into the bag across her shoulder. Reepicheep and his troop were wet, but completely unscathed. After setting the bag upon the ground next to her cloak, she walked over to Caspian who was now leaning against a tree with his breathing nearly under control.

Once she reached the Prince, Cara drew her hand back and smacked him harshly across the face. "Peter will not be impressed if we all return dead," she said with gritted teeth. Caspian simply stared up at her with failure in his eyes.

"Reepicheep," Cara said as she turned towards the small bag. "We walk from here." The mouse nodded quickly and ordered his men from the bag.

"Walk?" Caspian said incredulously as he pushed himself from the ground.

"Yes, we walk. The horses are too weak to carry us to the camp and cross the river again," Cara explained as she pulled the tack from her tired horse and rested it against a tree.

Nodding in understanding, Caspian went to his horse and did the same. Soon both horses were free of their tack and resting peacefully. "Lead the way," Cara said softly to Caspian. The Prince looked at her with slight shock, for he truly believed that she would take control after his mistake, but the challenge in her eyes caused him to turn and walk deeper into the woods.

The rain continued to fall as Caspian trailed the winding river to the outskirts of the Telmarine camp. Nearly an hour and a half passed before they reached the point when the centaurs and minotaurs could no longer follow them.

"Good luck, Sire," Glenstorm said as Cara, Caspian, Trumpkin, and the mice disappeared into the darkness, their presence shielded by the trees and the continuous rain.

The camp was quiet once they reached it. Not even light flickered in any of the tints. A few guards stood around its borders, but their sight was blurred by the rain, and the constant rolling of thunder made hearing anything difficult.

Reepicheep led his troop into the camp, his little eyes searching for the stash of weapons. Quietly they passed tints and jumped puddles, all moving in the shadows completely unnoticed.

"There," Reepicheep said softly when his eyes spotted four wagons lined up with their backs facing the woods and their fronts facing the river. Two guards stood beside them, both drenched and shaking slightly from the wind.

"Peepicheep, go and fetch the other three while we deal with the locks," Reepicheep ordered his second before scampering off towards the wagons. Doing as told, the mouse quickly retraced his steps until he found Caspian, Cara, and Trumpkin waiting patiently on the other side of the camp.

"The wagons are across the way," he explained. "I think it best to avoid the camp and travel through the woods, for they are backed against a wall of trees."

Following the mouse's advice, Caspian moved deeper into the woods and walked along the edge of the camp with Cara and Trumpkin moving steadily behind. The rain was waning now, while the lighting and thunder embellished the sky from miles away. Their cover would pass soon, making the cleverness of their work beyond important.

"Take this guard," Caspian whispered to Cara when they reached the wagons. "Trumpkin, go to Glenstorm and tell him of our location, we will need to hand the weapons and armor off quickly." Both Cara and the dwarf nodded at their orders and fell into position. When both royals were behind their designated guards, they looked to each other before moving in at precisely the same time.

The guard stood before Cara slightly hunkered and bouncing from one foot to the other. Silently, she pulled a dagger from her dress and slinked behind him. With one swift movement she moved her hand back and whacked the guard on the back of the neck with the hilt. He collapsed before her instantly.

"Nicely done, your Majesty," Reepicheep said as Cara stepped over the body of the guard and walked to the front of the wagon. Having accomplished their job, all four of the wagons were unlocked and ready to unload. Seeing that both guards were down, Caspian walked back into the woods, and finding Trumpkin having done his duty, brought the three centaurs and the two minotaurs to the front of the wagons.

Within minutes nearly all four wagons were empty of their contents, and with full arms and backs, the company made their way back into the woods.

"Wait," Caspian said softly to Cara as he set the swords in his arms down and walked back into the camp.

"Caspian!" she whispered harshly before following after him.

"We need to leave," Cara said as she crouched beside the Prince at the head of one of the wagons. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Let me see your dagger," he whispered back. With a look of confusion Cara passed over her dagger to the boy beside her. Caspian sent her a small wink before carving words into the wood of the wagon.

"You were right to fear the woods," Cara read silently to herself. "Funny," she responded before taking her dagger away from Caspian and walking back to the others.

Caspian soon followed after her, and after gathering up his things, the company disappeared into the woods without a sound. Although the rain still fell, the wind and lighting were long gone. Slowly, the sounds of night began to echo around them, and a cool chill blew through the air.

With tired feet and drenched clothes, they made it back to the horses in nearly two hours. Even though it was still high, the river's waters were much calmer and the horses seemed rested and prepared for the journey home. Caspian and Cara loaded up their steeds with swords and armor, while Reepicheep and his troop climbed back into their bag. Soon everyone was prepared to battle the river once again, although Trumpkin looked rather weary and was mumbling under his breath.

Glenstorm and his sons led the way, while the two minotaurs walked behind Cara and Caspian. The trip across was slow and cold, but with little difficulty everyone made it safely to the opposite bank. Far too tired and weighed down for any running or galloping, the company slowly trudged back to the How.

BBBBBBBB

"For Aslan's sake, sit down, Peter," Susan said as she watched her brother cross in front of her for the hundredth time.

"For the sake of us all," added Edmund with a sigh.

It was nearing three in the morning and still the company had not returned. Peter, who found himself completely unable to sit still since they left, had already ordered Edmund and Susan to begin looking for them on a few occasions. Being the most level headed of the bunch, Edmund explained each time that there was no need to panic until the sun began to show her face, while Susan, being the more frustrated and tired of the bunch, simply told Peter to _bugger off_.

The youngest had fallen asleep hours ago, and was resting peacefully in Cara's chambers with the Bulgy Bear watching the door.

"Perhaps I should go after them," Peter said as he ignored his siblings and continued to pace. "I simply know something has happened. It was stupid of me to think that Caspian was ready to handle something such as this. I truly should have done it my—" Peter's rant was cut short when the sound of a horn blew through the How and out into the night sky.

Without looking at his siblings, Peter ran from the room and down the corridor that led out of the How. When he reached the entrance, a small group was already gathered, and the night glowed above them in an array of stars. With the passing of the storm came a clear, cool wind that swayed the grass of the valley and swished the leaves of the trees around them.

Making their way steadily across the field were Cara and Caspian, with the remainder of the company following close behind. Upon seeing Peter, Cara urged her horse into a canter and made her way towards him.

Appeased by seeing her face, Peter finally let a smile spread across his, and as Cara slid off of her horse he ran to her and wrapped his arms firmly around her torso.

"Everyone safe?" he asked as she slid her arms from his shoulders and stepped back.

"Perfectly," she responded.

"Successful then?" Peter asked as the rest of the company finally approached. Caspian dismounted his horse before turning to the King and responding.

"Completely," he answered, which caused the small group gathered outside to erupt into applause.

"So you had absolutely no issues?"

"Well I wou—" Trumpkin started when Cara began to speak over him.

"None at all. Apart from getting completely soaked, I would say that the raid was flawless," she said to Peter with a smile. Caspian released the breath he was holding, and promised himself that he would have to thank the High Queen later for not exposing his mistake.

At Cara's words, Peter turned to the Prince and placed his hand firmly on his shoulder. "Well done," he said with a look of approval. Cara smiled softly at Caspian from beside Peter before turning away from the two boys and assisting in the unloading of the armor and swords.

After Peter ended his talk with Caspian, he grabbed a blanket from Susan, who being the only motherly woman around, had come prepared with warm blankets and hot tea for those that had been in the rain the entire night.

"Let them handle this," Peter whispered to Cara as he draped the blanket over her shoulders. Consumed by fatigue and enjoying the warmth of the blanket, Cara nodded to Peter and began to walk into the How.

"Are you not coming?" she asked Peter when he did not follow her.

"I'll stay and help. Go get warm and eat something. I promise I'll be finished in time to tuck you in," Peter responded with a smile. Cara laughed at his words before shaking her head and following Susan inside.

"Caspian," Peter said as the Prince continued to help as well. "Go with Cara and dry yourself. You have done enough for one night." Caspian looked to the King, unsure of what to do.

"All of you," Peter said as he indicated to the rest of the company. "Go inside, we can finish this."

With happy sighs those that journeyed into the Telmarine camp made their way into the warmth of the How. All except for Caspian, who opted instead to stay beside Peter until everything was unloaded and carried in doors.

Peter found Cara dry and warm watching both Susan and Lucy sleep. A cup of warm tea was clutched in her hands, and a soft blanket was wrapped securely across her shoulders. She smiled softly when she saw Peter, the light of a distant torch causing shadows to dance across her face.

"All done?" she asked as he sat down softly beside her. His hair was slightly damp with sweat, and his tunic was rumpled and undone, the upper part of his chest peeking through the thin material.

"All done," he responded, his eyes scanning over the sleeping forms of his siblings.

Cara watched Peter as he leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on Lucy's forehead causing the small Queen to smile in her sleep. Peter's lips lingered before he sat up slowly and turned to Cara, his bright eyes dancing in the flickering light. She could feel him look at her, his gaze slowly flowing over her body. Delirious with fatigue, Cara allowed her fingers to slowly creep towards his hand, her eyes still not meeting his.

Peter relished in the feel of Cara's fingers as they gently ran over his. He closed his eyes as she rubbed the back of his hand, before turning his palm over and allowing his fingers to rub against her wrist.

Suddenly feeling empowered, Cara finally cast her gaze towards Peter's face, which was soft and peaceful, his eyes still closed and his mouth slightly upturned. Cara's eyes returned to Peter's hand when she felt his fingers intertwine themselves with hers. With a heavy breath, Cara looked back at Peter, whose eyes were now open and absorbing her reaction.

Her heartbeat quickened as Peter's other hand softly made its way up her arm and towards her face. Barely touching her skin, Peter's thumb rubbed over her lips before brushing along her cheek and running through her hair.

"Come with me," he said with a slight huskiness in his voice. "I wish to show you something." Peter pushed himself from the bed, and still clutching Cara's hand in his, pulled her up carefully. With the blanket wrapped around her and her feet bare on the cold stone, Cara followed quietly after Peter as he led her through the sleeping How and up through the trap door at the very top.

In silence, the two sat upon a large boulder, that had already dried after the rain. Directly above them the sky was still scattered with stars, but before them the horizon began to glow with the faintest of pinks. Feeling Peter shiver slightly beside her, Cara unraveled herself from the blanket and draped in across both of them. With an unsteady breath, Cara moved closer to Peter and carefully laid her head against his shoulder. Below her head, Peter's heart beat wildly in his chest, and with just as much uncertainty, he wrapped his arm around the Queen beside him and rested his head upon hers.

As the sun began to rise, both pairs of eyes slowly closed, and feeling more content and safe than ever before, the High King and Queen fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

_Please review!_


	11. Something Bigger than Us

_Hey guys!!! Thank you so much for the reviews (and a special thanks to my two readers that were kind enough to point out my few mistakes, so I could quickly go back and fix them—I apologize for being careless is the last chapter). Anywho! This next chapter is part one of how the How is discovered by the Telmarines. It is really nothing more than setup for the next chapter, which will be out very soon! Read, enjoy, and leave a review!_

Chapter 11

Part I

Something Bigger than Us

Peter awoke with the sun in his eyes, a horrible crick in his neck, and an arm that he could not feel. Beside him Cara slept soundly, her head still resting comfortably on his shoulder and her leg draped over his. Feeling her chest fall steadily with his, Peter's comfort suddenly became unimportant, and even though he hurt in various places, watching Cara sleep was well worth the pain.

For nearly an hour Peter laid in the sun with the sounds of morning around him and the High Queen clutched in his arms. As his fingers stroked across her face and through her hair, Cara's eyes began to flutter open. Peter watched as a smile spread across her face and her arms wrapped tighter around his body.

"Good morning," he whispered softy into her hair.

"Indeed," Cara mumbled into his chest, before stretching and pulling her body away from his. Although Peter missed the contact, he was quite happy to finally be able to change positions and massage the back of his neck, which was now throbbing with pain.

"I suppose they will be wondering where we are," Cara commented as she climbed to her feet and cast her eyes across the bright valley before her.

"Probably," Peter responded. Cara turned from the valley and watched Peter as he rubbed his hands over his aching body. It was hard for her to believe that just moments ago her body was clutched by those hands, and the thought of it caused a small blush to spread across her cheeks.

"Perhaps it would be better if we do not venture down together," Cara said suddenly, for the thought of prying eyes on them was beginning to consume her. Peter stopped what he was doing and looked to the High Queen.

"Why would you offer up an idea like that?" he responded with a look of confusion.

"It's just…" Cara started as she averted her eyes away from Peter. "It's just that we both have been missing, and others might…others might," Cara stuttered as she gestured frantically with her hands. Peter watched her with mind amusement as her face became an even deeper shade of red.

"Nonsense," Peter finally said as she pushed himself to his feet. "No one will think anything of it. I promise." Cara nodded at his words, her eyes still refusing to meet his.

"Come on then," Peter said with a soft sigh. After looking briefly to Peter, Cara followed him through the trap door and down the long corridor that led to the Stone Table.

When they arrived, both still looking sore, tired, and rather ruffled, Susan immediately ran to them. "Where in heaven's name have you been," she yelled to Peter before her eyes left him and landed on Cara. Suddenly her look of concern turned to one of anger. "Honestly, Peter," she said as Peter came to stand before her.

"Honestly what, Susan?" Peter asked in a tired voice.

"_Honestly_ we have been searching for the two of your for nearly an hour," she shot back. Peter made to move past her when she put her hand up to stop him. "_Honestly_," she said louder and moved closer to her brother, "we thought that two of you might have been kidnapped, or worse. Now you simply come traipsing down the stairs—together—looking far more rumbled that anyone should, and acting as if nothing is wrong with the situation."

"Nothing is wrong with the situation," Peter argued back.

"Surely you cannot be serious," Susan said with a look of disgust.

Behind the arguing royals a small group was beginning to gather, not to mention that Caspian, Lucy, and Edmund were only standing feet away. As Peter and Susan continued to shoot harsh words between each other, Cara's skin began to burn with embarrassment. Peter was obviously wrong in his earlier assumption.

"Please—dear sister—enlighten me on the subject then," Peter yelled as Susan continued her tirade upon him.

"Just visualize the situation, Peter," the gentle Queen said with a dreadfully calm voice. "Both of you," she continued as she gestured to Peter and Cara, "were missing for the entirety of the morning, and now—both of you—suddenly appear looking as if you spent the morning rolling down a hill."

"We fell asleep together watching the sunrise, Susan. Stop being so accusatory," Peter countered.

"Well that is all good and romantic, _Peter_, but it is not acceptable behavior for the High King," Susan explained calmly as her eyes shot daggers into Peter. "I do not care how old you used to be and what exploits you ventured on at that time, but if you wish to have Cara beside you, you will do it correctly and _court_ her, not treat her like one of your many conquests."

Peter let out a heavy sigh as these words fell from Susan's lips, and with weary eyes, he looked to Cara. The High Queen was staring with wide eyes at Susan, her mind working to take in what she had just heard. Slowly, her look of shock changed to one of anger, and her eyes moved from Susan to Peter.

"Thank you, Susan, for that remarkably enlightening speech," she said through gritted teeth, before pushing past Peter and making her way out of the chamber. Caspian cast Peter a quick glance before following after her.

"Brilliant," Peter muttered to himself while turning to Susan. "Just bloody brilliant!" he shouted before turning on his heel and disappearing down a darkened corridor.

"Well done, Susan," Edmund said after a thick blanket of uncomfortable silence fell upon the room.

"I was only try—" she started when Edmund cut her off.

"Haven't you already said enough?" he said before striding past her and making his way down the corridor after Peter. Susan watched him go with heavy shoulders.

"There are far bigger things going on, Susan," Lucy said as she took Susan's hand in hers. "This will pass as quickly as it came."

BBBBBB

Cara's chest was tight with emotion as she made her way out of the suffocating How and into the burning sunshine. She did not know why she was angry or hurt, but Susan's words seemed to dive into her heart and wrap a cold encasing around it. Suddenly, the glances and gentle touches that she and Peter shared seemed hollow and forged. Each smile was received by women before her. Each caress was a well practiced façade.

As Cara walked deeper into the valley an urgency to flea began to pulse through her. Never before had she felt this kind of pain, for her heart generally wore the same armor that her body did, but Peter's subtle looks had worked their way through her shield like a parasite looking for a host.

"Cara," a soft voice said behind her. Cara quickly turned, startled by the sudden sound. Caspian stood near the entrance of the How, the soft wind blowing his dark tresses into his worried eyes. A pang of hurt hit Cara, for something deep inside of her wished that it had been Peter that had followed her out.

"Yes," she responded bravely, trying to hind any sort of pain from her voice. Caspian felt silly as he stood before Cara, for he truly had no insight to her situation, nor was he any good at offering comfort.

"Would you like to…um. Would you like to help me with the troops? We need to decide where our strengths and weaknesses lay," he asked in a bashful voice.

"Of course," Cara replied, happy to have something to keep her mind away from Peter. Caspian's face erupted into a smile at her words, and without thinking he offered her his hand and ushered her back inside.

"You know," Caspian said as he and Cara walked to the chamber of the How that held all of their weapons, "the Telmarines tell stories of your reign."

"Is that so?" Cara asked absentmindedly, for thoughts of Peter still consumed her.

"They call you a witch," he added.

"A witch?" Cara asked, her mind finally focused on Caspian.

"Yes," he replied with a laugh. "I know now that these tales are far from true, but I did wonder when we first met."

"A witch?" Cara asked again with light laughter in her voice. "You actually believed that I possessed unnatural powers?"

"Well it is difficult to forget what you have always been told," Caspian explained.

"What kind of powers did I possess?" Cara asked as the two royals entered the chamber and took a seat beside a large pile of swords.

"The Telmarines that created the story were not imaginative enough to delve that deep into their illusion," replied Caspian. Cara looked at him in mock astonishment.

"My powers weren't even described? The injustice!" she said causing Caspian to laugh whole heartedly.

"I can see where their idea stemmed from," Caspian responded once his laughter subsided, his eyes watching the High Queen intently. "You do command attention, and that is a power within itself."

Cara looked down uncomfortably and pushed a piece of hair behind her ear. Earlier that day, Caspian's words would have caused her to smile and think happily of Peter, but now they seemed to only mock her pain.

Seeing that he had caused Cara slight distress, Caspian placed his hand upon her chin and forced her dark eyes to look into his. "Do not allow Susan's words to ruin something that reaches beyond the physical yearnings of man," he said softly.

"How do I know they reach beyond such needs?" Cara asked with lost eyes. "Perhaps I am nothing more than a silly girl and these feelings do not reach beyond anything."

"Perhaps you are right," Caspian responded with a sigh, "but there is only one power in life that can answer that question."

"And what is that?" asked Cara. "Aslan?"

"No," answered Caspian. "Time."

BBBBBBB

The remainder of the day continued with little excitement, which was mainly due to the fact that practically no one was talking. Peter and Edmund stayed deep within the How and far away from Susan, while Cara and Caspian spent their time looking over the troops and assembling brigades.

Lucy stayed close to her sister, for she knew that Susan's words were not meant to cause harm. The two Queens walked among the woman and children that lived deep within the How, helping to gather food and other such supplies.

It was not until near supper time that everyone was brought back together due to some untimely circumstances. Lucy and Susan were stacking pounds of fruit into the corner of a far chamber when a group of Narnian children rushed inside. One of them was trying desperately to reach his mother, while the other three were pulling him back and speaking in rushed whispers. The commotion caused many to stop and watch as the boy ripped his hands away from the grasp of the others and cantered over to his mother.

"You are nothing more than a tattle tail," a young dwarf shouted at the centaur as he pulled his mother's ear close to his mouth. Susan and Lucy watched as her face went from annoyance, to disbelief, to complete fear.

"When did he leave, Castlestar?" she asked quickly as her hands wrapped around his shoulders. "Tell me now!" she shouted when he did not respond. Susan walked quickly over to them and placed a soothing hand on the centaur's arm.

"Is something wrong?" she asked softly.

"Tell your Queen what you told me," Castlestar's mother said to him. The boy looked at Susan with wide fearful eyes.

"A group," he started but was cut off by the same young dwarf that spoke earlier.

"Just go and ruin everything, Castlestar!" he said with a scornful tone.

"Hold your tongue," Susan shot at the boy, who immediately cowered and looked away. "Tell me," she said in a softer voice to the centaur. The boy gulped before continuing.

"A group left for the woods nearly an hour ago," he explained. "They were bet to enter the wood and cross the river."

"To go where?" Susan asked quickly. "Where?" she repeated when the boy did not respond.

"The Telmarine camp," he said quietly.

Keeping a strong hold on the boy, Susan pulled him through the corridors with Lucy and his mother trailing not far behind. "Where is Peter?" she asked hurriedly when she passed Glenstorm in the chamber of the Stone Table. The centaur looked at her with worried eyes before pointing down the long corridor that Peter and Edmund had disappeared down earlier. After offering a thankful nod towards the general, Susan continued down the corridor where she found both Edmund and Peter huddled over an old map.

Both Kings looked up upon hearing the sound of intruders, their expressions going from irritated to worried. "Something wrong?" Edmund asked as he eyes washed over the child centaur.

"Tell your Kings," Castlestar's mother said from behind him. Mustering up all of his courage, the boy stepped forward and told his tale to Edmund and Peter.

"Where are Caspian and Cara?" Peter asked once the story was finished; his voice was urgent and commanding. Susan indicated that she had not a clue, and with a heavy sigh Peter turned to Edmund.

"Go and ready three horses." Edmund nodded at his brother's words and sprinted from the room.

"Lucy, go with Susan and attempt to keep everyone calm, and try to keep word from spreading," he ordered. Both Queens immediately left the room and returned to their former chamber.

"You two," Peter said as he indicated to Castlestar and his mother, "help me find the High Queen and Prince. If you find them, tell them to meet me at the entrance of the How." Shocked by receiving an order from their King, both centaurs stared open mouthed before shaking the excitement from their head and hurrying off in separate directions.

To further the horridness of Peter's day, it was not Castlestar or his mother that found Cara and Caspian, but the High King himself. Peter was making his way towards the head of the How when the Cara's distinct laugh reached his ears. With one more turn of a corner, the High Queen and Caspian became visible in the dim lighting. Both were laughing as they walked towards Peter, with their eyes upon each other and their arms linked.

"Is that truly her name?" Cara asked with another laugh.

"Truly," Caspian responded, "I had the hardest time saying it when I was little."

"Well I wouldn't doubt that," she responded, "it is rather difficult to say even now."

Peter tried to remain calm as he approached the two royals, but his anger was blatantly displayed on his face. "Caspian," he said causing both the Prince and Cara to stop abruptly. Cara' face immediately began to burn with humiliation as Peter made his way towards them.

"Yes?" Caspian asked quickly.

"Go to the entrance of the How. There you will find Edmund waiting with your horse," Peter explained in a harsh tone.

"Is something wrong?" Caspian responded.

"Edmund will tell you everything. I shall meet you there momentarily," Peter answered with a look of annoyance. After casting one last look at Cara, Caspian hurried out of sight. Overwhelmed by the possibility that something might be wrong, Cara cast away her feelings for Peter and looked to him with worried eyes.

"What has happened?" she asked hurriedly.

"A group of children are heading towards the Telmarine camp," he explained causing a look of horror to spread across Cara's features.

"I'm going with you," she said as she went to follow Caspian's earlier steps. Peter's hand immediately shot out and latched on to her wrist.

"I need you to stay put," he explained as Cara cast him a look of confusion.

"Have we not been over this before?" Cara shot back as her looked of confusion was replaced with a scowl.

"Don't look at me like that," Peter said with sigh and stepped closer to the Queen. "I need you here, Cara," he explained.

"Why? Susan and Lucy are both here. What services can I offer that they cannot?" she asked as she looked Peter directly in the eyes.

"You can protect this How better than either of them," Peter responded, causing Cara's scowl to falter. "If those children have reached the camp, I do not know what will happen, and if any problems do occur, you are the only one I trust to rally the troops and protect our people."

Slightly shocked by Peter's ode of confidence, Cara turned her head away and glanced at the ground. "You're saying that to get me to stay," she responded after a moment of silence.

"No," Peter replied, "I'm saying that because it is true."

Cara returned her eyes to Peter before offering a small nod and walking deeper into the How. Peter watched her back, hoping—praying—that she would offer him a few soothing words before he departed, but as Cara turned the corner at the end of the corridor, he realized that she had nothing more to say to him and probably would not for a long time.

With one last look, Peter turned on his heel and headed for the entrance to the How, his heart feeling even heavier after his talk with Cara and her lack of words.

"Peter," Cara's voice rang out as it echoed down the corridor. The High King immediately stopped in his tracks and spun around. Cara stood awkwardly at the other end of the corridor with her hands linked in front of her.

"Yes," Peter offered back, slight hope releasing the heavy burden on his heart. Cara's mind seemed to be fighting a battle as she stood before him, for her eyes moved everywhere but on Peter, and her fingers twitched uncomfortably.

"Come back," she said softly as her eyes finally landed on Peter, and for a brief moment, she could not help but believe that the kindness in his eyes truly was meant for only her. The moment left as quickly as it came, and before the High King could respond, Cara turned around and disappeared once again down the corridor.

Feeling completely ill at ease, Peter made his way to the entrance of the How, where he found Edmund and Caspian waiting patiently upon their horses. With one swift move, Peter mounted his horse and urged him into a gallop. Behind him lay everything he had ever loved, and before him stood a power that could rip it completely apart.

_Part two coming soon! _


	12. Something Bigger than Us, Part II

_Thanks for the reviews! My readers keep me going!_

_Song for the Chapter—Thriving Ivory, Angels on the Moon_

_This song I listened to a lot when I was writing this, so I wanted to share it with you guys. _

_This chapter is pretty different from the others, and I do want to give a blood/gore warning. I don't think it's too bad, but it is there. Also, this chapter jumps around a little bit, so forgive me if it becomes difficult to follow. Anyways, please tell me what you think. I love hearing from all of you! _

Chapter 11

Part II

Something Bigger than Us

As the cool night air began to settle over the How, the only sound that was heard across the valley was the thundering of hooves. The noise was deep and wide, like the beating of a drum that played well into the earth. Peter's heart pounded with the same erratic beat, anticipation and fear fueling his pursuit. The forest before him looked as foreboding as the gates of hell, but through those gates his path led him, and through those gates he would go.

Behind the High King rode Caspian and Edmund, their faces as pale as the moon and their hearts beating with the same speed as Peter's. They entered the forest with no hesitation, their hearts and swords pledged to Peter and the people of Narnia. As the moon disappeared behind the canopy of the trees, the High King and his horse became nothing more than a moving shadow, dancing in and out of the trees as it maneuvered its way towards Beruna.

Edmund and Caspian followed by sound, their ears honed in on the breaking of sticks and leaves as Peter galloped before them. Unburdened by passengers and rain, the horses reached Beruna well under an hour. Peter slowed his steed as they moved through the rushing waters, allowing the cooling liquid to wash over both their bodies and renew their fading strength.

"Caspian," Peter said once all were safely across the river, "it is your turn to lead." Caspian nodded in understanding and urged his horse back into the dense trees. Peter and Edmund followed closely behind, the edges of Caspian's cape occasionally whipping in their faces.

The closer they came to the camp, the harder their hearts pounded. Peter ushered his horse into the lead once the twinkling lights of the camp's fires began to gleam before them. They dismounted quickly and left their steeds well hidden in a cluster of brambles. Slowly they inched their way towards the camp and the flickering lights. Voices began to sound and the lights began to move. Telmarine soldiers marched through the trees with heavy feet and drunken swaggers, their voices calling jeers into the night.

"They have seen them," Peter whispered after crouching under a thorny bush.

"Shall we fan out?" Edmund asked his brother.

"No," Peter responded. "We stick together, but we must find them quickly."

With little restraint Peter moved forward, his eyes searching the ground for any sign of Narnian life. Around them Telmarines kicked bushes and flung their torches. They were taunting the children, hoping for just one to scream and run.

"Peter, look," Caspian whispered as he pointed towards the shore of Beruna and deeper into the camp. A small commotion was beginning beside a fire whose flames reached feet into the sky. Many Telmarines were gathering, all laughing and tossing something between them. Amidst the cackling of amusement was the distinct sound of a child crying. Peter clenched his fists and immediately began to move towards it.

"Be smart about this," Edmund said as he reached out and grabbed his brother. "We need to find the other children first." Peter cast one last look at the crying child before nodding to Edmund and moving away from the commotion and the naked ground of the shore.

The three companions continued to move, all searching for a shake of a leaf or a small crack of a branch. For nearly five minutes they crawled along the ground in this way. The moving torches of the Telmarines surrounded them and the cries of the child echoed off of the trees. Peter froze when his eyes caught sight of a small shuffling of sticks. Before him sat a boulder and at its base a barely distinguishable hole covered by ticks and leaves. With a pounding heart Peter moved towards it, his mind racing with the hopes of what the hole could contain.

"What is it, Pete?" Edmund asked softly as he tried to keep up with Peter's pace. Peter said nothing, his mind far too focused on the boulder before him. Once his hand could graze across its surface, he leaned in close to the ground and listened. Barely louder than the vibrating of a bird's wings, was the sound of fluttering breathes.

"There're in here," Peter said with excitement. With a quick hand he removed the sticks that covered the hole, which opened up into a gap large enough for a teenage boy to crawl into.

"Narnians," Peter said softly as he inched closer to the gap. "It is your King." Little voices erupted at his words, followed by moving dirt and whispers of _quiet_.

"Hide!" Caspian said in a rushed whisper as he dove behind a tree. Peter turned to see a solider lumbering towards him, a torch held high in one hand and a sword swinging in the other. The High King's heart pounded as the soldier's eyes washed over him. After a moment of hesitation, the Telmarine charged towards Peter with wild eyes. Peter reached for his sword and rose from the ground when the man stopped feet from him and collapsed. Sticking from his head with a dagger; the emblem of the lion displayed on the hilt.

Startled, Peter looked forward to find the dark eyes of his brother looking back at him. With a nod of acknowledgment, both boys disappeared back into the brush. Urgency filled Peter as he returned to the gap and called into it. "We must leave now. I swear to you I am no Telmarine. The Lion is my Lord as well as yours."

Thick silence met Peter before a great deal of shuffling and whispers broke out. Soon a tiny set of eyes was staring back at the High King, followed by another, and another. The children were covered in dirt and tears, their faces contorted in absolute fear.

As Peter pulled each child from the hole, Caspian and Edmund appeared at his side, both keeping steady eyes on the whereabouts of the soldiers. Three children were now safely with their King, while one remained in the hole and another in the camp. Peter reached towards the last child's hand when his eyes caught sight of shiny, deep maroon.

"Are you wounded?" Peter asked the young centaur, whose eyes stared back at him in pain.

"It's his hock," a faun said softly to Peter, his eyes refusing to leave the ground.

"How bad is it?" Peter asked feverishly. The faun's face contorted as he began to cry causing Peter to grab the boy and wrap his fingers tightly around his mouth.

"Can you do something for me?" Peter whispered in the child's ear. "Stay strong. Just for a short while longer. We can survive this, but I need all of you to stay strong."

The faun nodded at Peter's words and tried his hardest to swallow his tears, which caused his chest to shake erratically. Slowly Peter took his hand from the faun and moved back to the wounded centaur.

"Give me your hands," Peter commanded. "If you feel pain, do all you can to keep it internal. We must be silent." The centaur nodded bravely and reached towards his King's outstretched hands. Peter latched on and pulled the boy forward, their eyes never breaking contact. Peter's heart lurched as he saw the centaur struggling to not scream out in pain, more and more blood becoming apparent the closer he came to the surface.

With one final heave the centaur was completely free of the hole, silent tears streaming down his face. Behind him was a line of blood seeping from his lacerated hock. Fighting to control his emotions, Peter wrapped his arms tightly around the boy. "Scream into my chest," he said softly, "let it out." Doing as told, the boy turned his head and forced his face deep into Peter's chest, his mouth opening and his hands gripping onto Peter's tunic.

"Peter, we must leave now," Edmund said frantically as two Telmarines began to make their way towards them. Peter released the boy from his arms and glanced around quickly, his eyes landing on the still burning torch clutched in the hand of the already dead soldier.

"The two of you will have to carry the centaur," Peter said quickly as he pulled the torch from the Telmarine's hand.

"What are you planning, Peter?" Edmund asked as he watched his brother grab the torch and his sword.

"Just run," Peter responded before he disappeared into the brush. Edmund watched the light in his brother's hand as it slowly approached the inside of the Telmarine camp. Once the light was nothing more than a gleam amongst the trees, he turned to Caspian and sheathed his sword.

"We head for the horses," he said as he walked over to the centaur boy. Caspian made his way over as well, and with perfect timing, the two boys lifted the wounded boy into their arms and began to move.

"You must keep up with us," Caspian said to the three remaining Narnia's. Looking as if they were suddenly renewed with hope, the boys crawled to their feet and moved quickly after Edmund and Caspian. The trip was slow and cumbersome, for Telmarines still surrounded them, but with the help of Peter the woods soon became dark and quiet.

Beside the shore of Beruna, yells began to echo through the trees and a mirage of flames danced across the sky. "Peter," Edmund said softly as he and Caspian glanced back at the commotion and the fleeing soldiers.

BBBBB

Throbbing with adrenalin, Peter plunged his sword into the chest of a Telmarine and worked his way towards the center of the camp and the last child. Behind him the tents were nothing more than burning embers and flames, his torch stuck securely in the heart of the largest tent. He watched as the gleaming lights of other torches began to leave the woods and enter the shore, his face sporting a content smile.

The Telmarines ran around him in an array of madness. Few actually attacked, for their main focus was the blaze that now reached yards into the sky and illuminated the moon above them. Still, a small group surrounded the dwarvin child and looked to Peter with taunting eyes. Soon they began to attack. Their blades were quick and sharp, but Peter danced around them with ease.

As he continued forward, the sight of a dwarvin child met his eyes. Her face was contorted as she cried and beat her fists against the Telmarine that held her. Peter killed without mercy. All that approached him were nothing more than corpses moments later. His focus was entirely on the girl, and no amount of swords or men could stand in his way.

Nearly all Telmarines were free from the woods, save for one, whom broke from the trees near Peter and ran to the man holding the child. Peter watched as best he could as the two soldiers shared quick whispers before moving apart once again. Only moments later soldiers appeared on horses. Peter's mind struggled to forge a plan as blades continued to bare down upon him. In a moment of desperate action, he pulled a dagger from his belt and lobbed it at the last rider. The man fell forward instantly and slipped to the side, his hip crunching as it hit rocks. His horse jumped slightly to the side before tossing its neck and following behind the other horses.

BBBBB

Deep in the woods behind Peter, Edmund and Caspian were entering the brambles that enclosed their horses. Edmund's arms were now covered in the blood of the centaur boy, who teetered precariously between life and death. Using their last bit of strength, they pushed the boy across the back of Caspian's horse, his voice crying out in pain as his hock stretched. After taking a moment to breath, Caspian leapt onto the horse behind the boy and wrapped one arm securely around him.

"I need you three to be brave," Edmund said as he crouched down and looked to the remaining children. "You are going to follow Caspian back to the How."

"Without you?" one of the fauns said softly.

"Yes," Edmund responded. Although they still looked terrified, no child complained as Edmund lifted each one onto the back of his horse. With one last nod to Caspian, he unsheathed his sword and disappeared back into the brambles.

Holding on tightly to barely conscious centaur, Caspian urged his horse out of the brambles and into the forest. Soon he and the children were galloping towards the How and away from their Kings.

As Edmund ran towards the shore, the sound of hooves reached his ears. Thunderous shadows began to dance before him as Telmarine riders galloped off of the shore and into the woods.

"No," Edmund repeated softly as the riders headed directly towards Caspian and the children. The King watched in horror as the horses flew passed him and disappeared into the darkness, the beat of their hooves continuing to reverberate through the ground.

Hope in the form of a rider-less horse followed quickly behind the galloping group. Reacting without thought, Edmund latched on the horse as it moved passed him, the power of the animal lifting him off the ground. After a moment of struggle, Edmund crawled onto its back and took hold of the reins. Although Edmund could not see beyond the Telmarine riders, he knew that Caspian and the children traveled not far ahead, and would soon be in a great deal of trouble.

BBBBBB

Caspian's only focus was reaching Lucy and her cordial. The children beside him seemed to be calming as the cool night air whipped through their hair, and the camp was nothing more than orange ciaos in the darkness of night. The centaur in Caspian's arms struggled to remain conscious, but the battle was futile, for darkness once again overtook him as the blood of his hock seeped down the side of Caspian's horse. As the child went completely limp, the small ray of hope that was growing in Caspian's heart vanished.

"Hang on," he pleaded silently and pulled the boy's cold body closer to his. Lucy seemed worlds away as the woods continued with endless trees. The night was now unmoving and silent, save for the sound of the horse's hooves and the throbbing of Caspian's heart. As Caspian looked to the children beside him, power surged through his body and rejuvenated his will to continue.

Clenching his jaw and refusing to give up hope, Caspian urged his horse on even faster and crouched low to its neck, but worse things were to come, for steadily approaching was the group of Telmarine riders.

BBBBBB

Peter plunged his sword into the belly of the last Telmarine that approached him before turning towards the soldier with the dwarf clutched in his hands. His eyes were no longer taunting, but completely afraid. As Peter approached with even strides, the soldier dropped the child to the ground and fled into the trees. Working quickly, Peter hurried to the dwarf and pulled her into his arms. She latched on to him with deadly force and buried her head into his shoulder.

With his sword still drawn, Peter rushed into the forest and towards the brambles, where he prayed to Aslan his horse still waited. Yells began to erupt directly behind him as soldiers attempted to find horses and continue the chase, but luckily for Peter, the camp was now in total disarray, and he had nearly reached the brambles when the pursuit continued.

"Hold on to me," Peter said to the child as he found his horse and leapt onto its back. Unsteady with excitement, the horse rushed from the brambles and into the dense trees. Clutched tightly to Peter's chest was the child, her heart beating erratically and her eyes watching the Telmarine riders that followed in the shadows. Peter ignored the riders behind him and urged his horse on quicker. His mind could think of nothing but returning the children to the How and seeing the smiling face of the dieing centaur boy. He had to survive. Peter would offer him no other choice.

BBBBBB

Caspian was closing in on the path that led across the river when an array of arrows began to rain down upon them. The children screamed in fear and huddled closely together on the back of Edmund's horse. Caspian's mind raced. The discovering of the How was now inevitable, for a changing of course could lead to the death of the child in his arms, but continuation placed all of Narnia in danger.

"Aslan, help me," he whispered as he turned onto the path that led do Beruna. Stopping at the water's edge, he pulled his sword from his sheath and twisted back towards the forest. Behind him Edmund's horse was steadily crossing the rushing waters with the children safely upon its back.

"Hand over your Narnian swine," a soldier yelled to Caspian as they came to the edge of the forest.

"Only swine would murder a child," the Prince responded causing the Telmarines to laugh.

"You hold a disfigured beast in your hands little Prince. The only child I see it you," the soldier barked back. As the Telmarines began to raise their bows and point them directly at Caspian, the Prince's heart slowed and his mind came to terms with the possibility of death. Behind him the remaining children were now safely across the river, all three watching the scene intently.

Caspian unsheathed his sword and pointed it towards the Telmarines, his body and mind preparing to charge, but a charge was never allowed, for in a streak of black and brown, Edmund rushed out of the woods and rammed his horse into the side of the lead soldier. The man was knocked to the ground instantly, his rearing horse coming down heavily upon his leg.

"Go!" Edmund yelled to Caspian as he swung his sword and knocked another Telmarine from his mount. Shaken by the sudden assistance, Caspian pulled his horse towards the river and quickly made his way across. After casting one last glance to Edmund, Caspian urged his horse towards the How, the children following close behind.

BBBBB

Cara sat at the edge of the Stone Table with Susan. Both Queens were staring at the carving of Aslan and silently praying that no harm would come to their Kings or the Narnian children. The How was thick with silence, and a cool draft seemed to waft through the air sending chills down Cara's spine. Susan's hand held Cara's tightly, for her mind was sick with worry and the feeling of Cara's warmth seemed to calm her. All words shared earlier were now of little consequence, neither thinking anything of prior arguments or misunderstandings.

Lucy slept upon the Stone Table, her eyes fluttering behind closed lids as her mind dreaming of fire and swords. She was lost in the darkness of the forest. Before her stood a wall of flames, but they seemed to emit no heat or sound. Soldiers rushed passed her upon horses of black, their swords gleaming with blood. Among the flames a vision of Peter and Edmund appeared, both looking weak and beaten. She tried to reach for them, but the light of the flames kept her from approaching. In an instant the vision vanished and was replaced by the face of Aslan. Lucy stared back into his eyes of flame, her hand reaching towards him. Suddenly, the flames rushed towards her. Lucy screamed as the flames overtook her.

"Lucy?" Susan asked in a terrified tone as Lucy sat up trembling and covered in sweat. "Lucy what happened?" she repeated as she moved towards her sister and wrapped her arms around her. Cara watched the two with a look of concern.

"They need us," Lucy whispered into Susan's chest.

"What did you say?" Cara asked as she stood up. Lucy pulled away from Susan and looked to Cara.

"Aslan came to me," she answered, "I think he was telling me that they needed us."

Cara's eyes shot to Susan. The gentle Queen stared back for a moment before nodding. "Lucy, be ready with your cordial when we return. Susan, come with me," Cara ordered before she ran from the room with Susan not far behind her.

"Glenstorm!" Cara yelled as she ran through the corridors and towards the stable.

"It something wrong your Majesty?" Trumpkin asked when he appeared from around the corner.

"Yes, Cara responded as she continued towards the stables. "Find Glenstorm and tell him to gather his sons and meet me at the head of the How." Trumpkin nodded at her words and hurried off in search of the general.

Once Cara and Susan reached the stables they quickly bridled two horses and jumped onto their backs. "They are waiting for you," Trumpkin said as he entered the stables.

"You have my appreciation," Cara replied as she moved past the dwarf and cantered her horse out of the large chamber. Susan followed directly behind, both Queens nervous with anticipation and fear. Cara did not slow when she exited the How; instead she pushed her horse into a gallop and entered the tall grass of the valley. Glenstorm and his sons broke into a gallop as well, their swords drawn and their eyes looking steadily ahead.

_So, I am going to be mean and stop here. If I was to continue this chapter would be quite a bit longer, and I don't want that. The next part is complete though, so if you guys are nice and review, I will post it very, very soon! _


	13. Out of the Shadows

_I want to give a HUGE shout out to everyone that has reviewed so far. Thank all of you very much, and I hope that you will continue to read, enjoy, and review! _

_The last part of the chapter is dedicated to those of you that have been asking for some romance. I'm actually slightly uncomfortable with the scene, so please let me know what you think. Song for the moment—Hit the Ground by Lizz Wright. Enjoy!_

Chapter 12

Out of the Shadows

When Peter reached Edmund he was laying upon the ground with a Telmarine attempting to push his head under the rushing waters of Beruna. Nearly everyone surrounding them was dead, save for a few that were slowly nearly their end. All that remained were Edmund and the soldier, both wrestling back and forth along the shore. Blood rushed into Edmund's eyes from a wound near the bridge of his nose, the pain a constant throbbing in his head.

Peter rode towards the man with his sword drawn. Without any hesitation, the High King drove Rhindon into the back of Edmund's assailant, killing him instantly. Edmund pushed the dead weight off his chest and turned onto his side, blood and water dripping from his face.

"We must hurry," Peter said as Edmund crawled slowly to his feet.

"Can you wait a moment," Edmund responded with a scowl. "I did just kill six Telmarines, get my head bashed in, and have a lovely swipe across my thigh."

"We don't have a moment," Peter answered as another group of Telmarine riders came into view.

Edmund looked to the riders with a blank face before turning to Peter and scowling. "You just had to make your exit as great as your entrance, didn't you?"

"Just get on a bloody horse," Peter responded as he urged his mount down the bank of Beruna and into the water. With a heavy sigh and a slight limp, Edmund made his way to a Telmarine horse and scrambled up its back.

"There they are!" a gruff voice shouted as the riders appeared between a set of trees only yards from the bank. Finally seeing the rush, Edmund urged his horse quickly into the rushing water, which spilled over his wound causing sharp pain to shoot through his leg.

Peter's horse shook its head frantically as he waited for Edmund to safely make it across. Frightened by the jarring movement, the dwarvin child clutched tighter to Peter's chest and buried her head between Peter's neck and shoulder. Her tears were now silent, but her face was smeared with sweat and dirt and her blonde hair was a tangled mess. "You shall be with your mother soon," Peter whispered as he kissed the top of the child's head.

"Just give us the girl, and we will promise to make your deaths quick ones," one of the soldiers shouted from the opposite bank.

"She is yours for the taking," Peter responded. "All you must do is come claim her."

"With pleasure," the Telmarine shot back and kicked his horse into the water. Soon the other's followed, the rushing waters doing little to hinder their path.

"Do you honestly think that was a good idea?" Edmund asked Peter as both Kings galloped from the bank and into the dense forest.

"I have a plan," Peter responded, his eyes staying focused on the dark trail ahead.

"And what plan is that? Lead them to the How, and then ask them to dinner?" Edmund shouted back as a dagger whizzed by his head and hit a tree in front of him. Peter shot him a dirty look before pushing his horse forward and expanding the distance between himself and the Telmarines. The only thought in his head was the child clutched close to his chest and the importance of her survival.

BBBBB

Cara's eyes searched the darkness as she galloped through the forest with Susan beside her and Glenstorm behind her. Everything was silent except for the erratic beat of their horse's footfalls and the rider's heavy breaths. Occasionally a bird would flutter feet in front of them, causing Cara's heart to jump with hope, but each time the ray of hope became smaller, for the fluttering wings never amounted to anything.

They were nearly halfway to Beruna when Caspian and the children finally crossed their path. It began with the fluttering of another bird, which raised no hope in Cara's heart, for the last five birds had led to nothing, but after this bird came another, and another, until the woods before them erupted in sound. Squinting her eyes, Cara was able to make out the shape of two horses, both seeming to be nothing more than moving shadows. As the forest opened up slightly and the light of the moon shown upon the ground, Caspian finally appeared to be more than vision in the darkness.

"Caspian!" Cara yelled as she pulled her horse to a jumpy halt. With wide eyes Caspian slowed to a stop across from Cara, his breathing ragged and his tunic drenched in sweat and blood. The three children slowed as well, all looking worn and weak with fatigue. Susan winced at the sight of the child centaur and glanced away, while Glenstorm moved closer to the boy and examined his hock. Although the general never showed much emotion, the look on his face was frightening.

"He is nearly gone," Caspian said with shaky breaths.

"Where is Peter?" Cara asked hurriedly as her eyes scanned the woods hoping to see movement of another bird. Caspian simply shook his head at her question, which caused Cara to look back at him with worried eyes. "Get the children to Lucy," she responded before kicking her horse forward and moving deeper into the darkness.

"One of you go with him," Susan said to Glenstorm's two sons. "General," she continued, "our night is not yet over." With quick nod Glenstorm galloped off behind Susan, leaving his youngest son to help Caspian back to the How.

Cara's body was bent low as she weaved between the trees and towards Beruna. No matter how hard she tried, her mind would not release a vision of Peter lifeless and covered in blood. She suddenly did not care if his lips had touched another's before her, or if his heart had found solace years ago. She simply wanted to see him alive. See that his heart beat with power beneath his chest and his eyes still shown with stormy blue. Cara's lungs became tight at the thought of never seeing those eyes again.

"Peter!" Edmund's voice sounded deep in the woods, causing Cara's heart to leap and her welling panic subside. Slowly the sounds of fighting began to echo through the trees mixed with yells and the shriek of a horse.

Cara pulled a dagger from her belt and galloped towards the turmoil before her. In the darkness that fighting figures seemed nothing more than outlines of shadows. Glenstorm and his son galloped passed Cara and attacked the men without mercy, their strength and swords unmatched by the weakness of Telmarine men.

Scrambling across from Cara was the outline of Peter, his horse tossing beside him as it fought to get up. From the shadows galloped a rider atop a black steed. His sword was pointed at Peter's chest as he quickly approached, but he would never reach the High King, for Cara's dagger was faster and more accurate than his horse.

The rider slipped over the horse's neck and fell beside Peter, while his mount continued passed him and disappeared into the woods. Cara pulled her horse to a halt and jumped from its back. "Peter," she whispered as she ran to him and dropped to his side. The High King stared back at her with wide eyes before shaking the shock from his mind and wrapping his arms tightly around her. Cara laughed in relief as she rested her chin on his shoulder and breathed in his musky scent.

"Where is the child?" Peter asked frantically as he pulled away from Cara and began to glance around.

"I have her, Peter," Susan said from behind Cara. The gentle Queen was feet from her horse with her bow clasped in one hand and the tiny dwarvin girl in the other.

"Get her out of here," Peter ordered. Susan nodded at his request and carefully mounted her horse. As Cara and Peter climbed from the ground and gathered their weapons, Susan disappeared back into the forest with the child in her arms.

"And the last one goes to safety," Peter said softly from beside Cara. The Queen turned to him, her eyes taking in his beaten body. Peter was covered with near as much blood as Caspian, and his great sword Rhindon glowed in the moon with a dark red. Around them the woods seemed silent once again, for Edmund, Glenstorm and the remaining group of Telmarines had continued their chase deep in the forest.

"We must find my brother," Peter said in a raspy voice as he grabbed the reins of the horse that struggled beside him only moments early. A small stream of blood dripped down the shoulder of the horse from a gash created during the fall, but he seemed unnerved by the pain and as anxious as ever to return to the chase. Cara watched as Peter climbed upon its back, his face contorting in pain as he eased into the saddle.

"Come on," Peter said as he began to trot off into the darkness. With a tired sigh Cara mounted and followed after Peter, both taking off at a gallop beside each other.

They did not have to wait long before another skirmish began. Edmund was not a quarter mile from Peter's point of fall, his sword out and a dead Telmarine beside him. Gone from sight was his steed; the horse well on its way back to the safety of the How. Deep in the shadows of a giant oak, Glenstorm and his son fought side by side against three soldiers, the clanging of their swords and deep grunts echoing in the darkness.

Peter rode to the aid of his brother, who was now battling another set of Telmarines, while Cara entered the shadow of the oak with her sword at the ready. With the aid of their High Queen, the two centaurs were able to defeat the soldiers and return to the side of their Kings, who were still struggling to maintain the upper hand.

Cara slipped from her horse and began to fight along the side of Peter. The two worked as a team pushing the soldiers back from Edmund, who was slowly becoming overpowered due to fatigue and extensive wounds.

Letting out a cry of pain, Cara fell back as a Telmarine sword sliced deep into her shoulder. Peter's focus immediately left Edmund and went to his Queen, who was holding her wound while trying to keep the soldier at bay. Leaving Edmund's side, Peter turned to the soldier and ran him through without an ounce of mercy.

Although Cara was now safe, Edmund found himself in a great deal of trouble without the help of Peter or Cara. The King winced in pain as a soldier came done upon his thigh, further aggravating the wound and forcing him to his knees.

"Peter!" Edmund called to his brother as another sword swung only inches from his head. The High King turned away from Cara at the desperate sound of his brother's voice. Glenstorm shot in front of Peter and crashed onto the group of soldiers, their swords leaving small marks upon his legs and stomach. Shaken from his shock, Peter ran to Edmund's aid as well and plunged his sword into the warm flesh of an attacking Telmarine.

Fueled by anger and fear, Glenstorm, his son, and the High King were able to slay the remaining soldiers within mere minutes. Edmund lay on his back holding his thigh tightly and staring up at the stars above him. Cara crawled laboriously to her feet and slowly approached Peter, who was bent forward and breathing heavily.

"Every one alive then?" Peter asked with ragged breath.

"Barely," Edmund responded as he held his bleeding leg tighter. Cara's shoulder was not in much better shape, the sleeve of her gown coated in a deep red and ripped. Peter turned to her when she reached his side and straightened his back. He looked at her with eyes filled with concern, while his hand reached out and touched her cheek lightly.

"Sire," Glenstorm's voice sounded from beside him, causing Peter to drop his hand from Cara's face and turn to the General. "King Edmund needs instant attention."

"Buck up, Ed," Peter said with a small smile as he helped the King onto the back of Glenstorm. Edmund gave him a weak chuckle before being carried off by the general. Once the two were gone from view, Peter helped Cara onto the back of a horse before climbing on himself. The High Queen rested her weary head against Peter's chest as he wrapped a strong arm around her stomach and ushered the horse into a slow canter.

"Do you think we killed them all?" Cara asked in a weak voice.

"It truly does not matter," Peter responded. "More will follow behind them, tracing the bodies and rider-less horses directly to our doorstep."

"What will we do then?" Peter sighed heavily at Cara's question, his mind racing with her use of _we_ as well as the fact that he had no answer and no plan.

"We will think of something, Peter," Cara whispered when the High King did not respond, her small hand weakly rubbing his. Although Peter's heart still raced with the burden of what was to come, he was calmed by the acknowledgement that he was not alone.

The two continued in silence for the remainder of the journey. Cara was slowly becoming feeble from blood loss causing Peter to hold her tighter and urge his horse on faster. When the trees ended and the open valley began, the sky glowed above them with brilliance, and the How was alight with torches and commotion.

"There they are!" a voice shouted as Peter and Cara immerged from the dark. Caspian ran from the How towards them, blood and sweat still staining his tunic. Peter helped Cara into Caspian's arms before sliding off his horse and following after Caspian into the center of the How.

Lucy ran forward upon seeing the blood covering Cara's arm and her face pale and trembling. Peter moved Cara's head into his lap as Caspian slowly lowered her to the ground. All waited with bated breath as a tiny drop of the red liquid fell into Cara's mouth and down her throat. Slowly her eyes opened with new life and her arm reached up to massage her shoulder. Peter smiled softly and allowed his thumb to rub across her cheek.

"Ok, then?" he asked quietly. Cara nodded slowly and lifted herself up into a sitting position. Caspian smiled and punched her softly in the shoulder.

"Had to go get hurt, didn't you?" he asked with a laugh causing Cara to glare mockingly back at him.

"Not near as bad as the others," she responded, which reminded Peter of Edmund and the children.

"Where is Ed?" he asked Lucy suddenly. "And the children?" Lucy smiled back at her brother and wrapped her small arms around his shoulders.

"All alive and sleeping soundly. Susan is watching over them," she explained.

"You're bloody brilliant, Lu," Peter replied as he hugged his sister back.

"Someone say my name?" Susan asked as she appeared from around the corner. Cara smiled upon seeing the Queen and climbed to her feet with Peter following suit beside her. Susan smiled at both before running into Peter's arms and crushing him in a hug. "I was so worried about you," she whispered, "and then Edmund returned on the brink of passing out, and the children are all a complete mess an—"

"Susan," Peter said with a chuckle as he pulled out of her grasp. "It was a horrible night, but we are all alive." Susan nodded weakly at Peter's words before turning to Cara and wrapping her arms tightly around her waist.

"Thank you for making sure he returned alive," she said softly. Enjoying the feeling of being wanted, Cara placed her arms around Susan and returned the show of affection.

"I would have it no other way," she answered.

After a short moment, Susan released Cara and took a step back. "Let us get you cleaned up and to bed," she said as she grabbed Cara's hand and pulled her forward. "Lucy, you as well."

Lucy huffed at her sister before clamoring to her feet and rushing to catch up. Peter watched the three women in his life disappear down the corridor with weary eyes.

"You should rest as well, Peter," Caspian said from beside him. Peter glanced at the Prince and ran his hand through his damp, dirty hair.

"You're one to talk," the High King replied. Caspian laughed softly and looked at the blood and sweat covering his tunic.

"I do seem a bit dirty," he commented. Peter nodded with a small smile before walking towards a corridor.

"Caspian," he said as he turned around and began to walk backwards. The Prince looked to his King with questioning eyes.

"Wonderful job tonight," Peter said softly.

"Thank you," Caspian responded after a moment of silence, "Sire." Peter laughed at his formality and turned back around.

"And Peter," Caspian suddenly called out and took a step forward. Peter stopped and looked back at the Prince. "May I offer some advice?" The High King's furled his brow at the question, but nodded slightly in response.

"You have more to fight for than Narnia," Caspian continued. "I suggest you begin fighting now." Peter looked at Caspian with confusion, but before he could reply the Prince turned on his heel and disappeared down the opposite corridor.

BBBBB

Cara shifted uncomfortably, her arm accidentally whacking into Susan. She was attempting to fall asleep in her large comfortable bed, which was placed in her large comfortable chamber, but for some reason sleep was nothing more that a fleeting idea. Cara was changed and cleaned, her body not showing one remnant of the battle fought only two hours prior. Around her the How was silent and still. The children were sleeping soundly with their parents, and Edmund was only a chamber over recovering from his wounds and fatigue.

Susan grumbled something completely incoherent before rolling onto her side and breathing deeply. Cara watched her back rise and fall with envy before throwing back the thick covers and making her way out of the chamber.

The stones were cold beneath her feet and the walls and air seemed damp and thick. She walked aimlessly though the corridors and chambers, doing her best to not wake anyone that she passed. Just as Cara was finally becoming tired enough to return to bed, a small light in a distant chamber caught her eye. With hesitant, quiet steps she made her way towards it and peeked around the corner.

It was Peter. The High King was sporting a new tunic, but it was clear to see that he had still not bathed or fully changed. Lying on a small cot before him was the centaur child, his hock completely healed and his chest rising and falling softly. His mother was asleep across the room with her four legs wrapped close to her body. Peter sat next to the boy with his tiny hand clutched in his.

Cara stared in silence. Her eyes took in the beauty of the scene and the humility that shown on Peter's face as he watched the boy sleep. Fully awake once again, Cara walked quietly into the chamber and knelt down beside Peter. The High King acknowledged her presence before turning his eyes back to the boy.

"He is so beautiful," Cara said softly as he brushed her hand across his forehead.

"He came so close to death," Peter whispered, his face scowling in the dim light. Cara took her eyes from the boy and let them rest on Peter.

"But death did not overtake him," she replied, "because of you." Peter scoffed at her words and placed the child's hand softly beside him.

"Death did not overtake him because of Caspian," Peter answered.

"And Caspian was able to flee because of you," Cara responded with a harsh tone. Peter looked back at her with weary eyes and slumped shoulders. Soon the High Queen's face softened and he hand reached out to brush against Peter's cheek. "Why are you not resting?" she asked softly.

"I suppose for the same reason you are not," he replied with a small smirk. Cara smiled in response and allowed her hand to fall from his cheek. "Come on," he added as he pushed himself to his feet and pulled Cara up with him. "Let's leave them be."

As Cara followed Peter from the chamber, she could see traces of dirt and blood encrusted into his hair and across his neck. The King had taken no time for himself, and the blatant display of selflessness caused Cara's heart to swoon in her chest. Susan's earlier words began to swirl around in her mind, for Cara was suddenly struck with a bravery that she had never felt before. She wished to relieve Peter of his burdens and pain, but the possibility of her actions being inappropriate only reminded her of Susan's latest rant.

Lost in thought, Cara paid little attention when Peter lifted her small hand towards his lips and placed a small kiss on her palm. The feeling of damp warmth on her skin caused the vision of Susan to flee Cara's mind, and as she looked intensely into Peter's eyes, she decided that she was going to help the High King in any way that she could whether it was considered appropriate or not.

"Peter," she said softly, her hand still clutched in his, and her voice wavering. Cara had no idea what to say—what she wanted to say—and the look in Peter's eyes was heavy and unnerving. At a loss for words, Cara decided to simply say nothing, and after managing to pull her eyes from Peter's, she kept hold of his hand and led him deep into the How. They descended into the ground for nearly five minutes before finally entering a dimly lit chamber that was quite cool and slightly damp.

"Are you indicating that I need a bath?" Peter asked with a laugh once he realized they were in the public bathing chamber. A stream of fresh water ran down a small underground canal directly beside them, allowing those within the How the comfort of constant fresh water.

"Yes," Cara responded with a cheeky smile as she let go of Peter's hand and grabbed a small torch in the corner of the chamber. "Sit," she commanded and began to move about the room lighting numerous other torches. After the chamber was glowing with flickering light, Cara grabbed a bucket from a stack in the corner, filled it with water and placed upon one of the torches.

"I think I was four the last time someone forced me to bathe," Peter commented as he watched Cara work.

"And who forced you?" she asked as she tested the heat of the water with her finger.

"My mother," responded Peter.

"Well if she was here, I would allow her the honor once again," Cara said with a small smile.

"Then I am happy that she is not here," Peter answered with a blatant smirk sketched across his face. Cara's cheeks immediately began to burn with both excitement and embarrassment.

"You know," Peter continued after a moment of awkward silence, "this is surly on Susan's list of inappropriate acts that the High King and Queen should never be caught in."

"I guess that means we cannot get caught," Cara responded bravely as she lifted the bucket of hot water off of the fire and carried it towards Peter. Although her face was burning, she could not help but smile at the obvious flirting. Peter smiled as well and watched the Queen as she slowly made her way to his side.

"Take off your tunic," Cara said softly as she turned away from Peter and looked for a clean rag. Her eyes spotted a small pile beside the grouping of buckets, and with shaky feet she made her way over to the rags and picked one. Cara could hear Peter shuffling softly behind her, causing her heart to beat even faster. Only a few times in her life had she seen a man's bare chest, and each time it was covered in blood and in dire need of healing.

Deciding that she must turn around at some point, Cara released a deep breath and turned her body. Peter was still seated with his elbows resting on his knees and his eyes staring at his hands. In a crumbled heap near his feet lay his tunic.

Peter raised his eyes when he felt Cara watching him. The look he gave her was soft and warm. Cara stared deeply into Peter's eyes as she walked forward, far too afraid to allow them to wander anywhere else. Peter sat up straighter when she reached him, causing Cara's eyes to become distracted by his exposed chest. Realizing that she was staring, Cara quickly bent down and dunked the small rag in the steaming water. After ringing it out with a shaky hand, she moved around to Peter's back and stared down at his tightened muscles.

Large blotches of brown and blue covered Peter's skin; bruises and scrapes from the day's earlier battles. Cara slowly lowered the rag to the base of Peter's neck and with a hammering heart, began to wipe away the remnants of the day. As time passed, both King and Queen began to receive comfort from the situation. Cara bent down repeatedly to renew the warmth of the rag, while Peter allowed his eyes to close and his muscles to relax.

As the minutes dwindled away, Cara continued to run warm water over Peter's body, her hands becoming accustomed to the feel of his skin and muscles. Her breathing was now even, as was Peter's, for both realized that Cara's act of kindness went far beyond the physical, but as Cara made her way to Peter's chest, and their eyes made contact once again, hearts began to flutter and the air began to close in around them.

Cara continued to rub the warm rag along Peter's neck, but the motion was lazy and haphazard. Peter's eyes changed as he watched her, going from sincere and calm to excited and needy. Finding the rag far too distracting, Peter placed his hand upon Cara's and pulled the rag from her fingers. She looked back at him with wide eyes as he took her other hand in his stared intensely into her eyes.

Light danced across Peter's face and in his hair, creating a small glow that surrounded his damp body. Cara suddenly felt small and innocent before him, her body never experiencing such intense emotions. Her breathing became deep and ragged as Peter slowly pulled her body closer to his, their eyes never breaking contact.

Having never kissed anyone before, Cara had no idea what to expect when Peter's soft lips finally met hers. At a loss of what to do, the High Queen simply let go. Closing her eyes, she pulled her hands from Peter's and placed them softly on his chest. Feeling her encouragement, Peter moved his hands to her face and deepened the kiss. Cara's heart raced as Peter's warm mouth opened up to hers, her hands leaving his chest and traveling to his back.

Peter pulled back softly, taking his mouth away from hers and hold her head comfortably in his hands. Cara opened her eyes slowly and stared back at him, a small blush creping to her cheeks. "Hello," Peter whispered causing Cara's face to erupt into a brilliant smile. She laughed under the weight of his eyes and buried her head into his chest.

"We should be getting to bed," she said as she went to pull away from Peter. The High King had other intentions though, his hand grasping Cara's and pulling her back to him. With a laugh he covered her mouth once more with his. Cara responded immediately, her hands finding their way into his golden hair.

Breathless, the two parted moments later, both flushed with excitement. Trying to cover her smile, Cara pulled away from Peter and picked up the bucket and rag, while Peter grabbed his tunic and wandered around the chamber putting out lights.

"Shall we?" he asked softly as Cara placed the bucket back in its rightful spot. Unable to speak due to the smile on her face, Cara merely nodded and allowed Peter to lead her out of the dark chamber.

Both immerged from the bottom of the How sporting ridiculous smiles. Cara felt as if her body was on fire as Peter kissed her hand softly and accompanied her to her chamber. "Goodnight," she whispered once they reached the door. Peter simply smiled down at her blushing face and placed a light kiss upon her forehead.

"Night," he replied with a voice near as soft as hers. With one last brilliant smile, Cara headed towards the entrance of her chamber. Peter watched her back as she disappeared into the darkness, his mind deciding that possibly—in the very slightest—his day was not so horrible after all.

_I was completely NOT planning on having them kiss yet, but just seemed like they really wanted to. Don't you think? Anyways, please let me know if you liked it! _


	14. Into the Lion's Den

_I'm guessing by the amount of reviews that you guys enjoyed the kiss! YAY! Although this chapter isn't near as exciting as the last two, the ones after this will be filled with more fighting and more romance. Please leave a review and tell me what you think. Hearing from you guys truly does make me write faster. Cheers!_

_Ps- Sorry for taking so long to update. I was in Boston and unable to write. _

Chapter 13

Into the Lion's Den

Looking back on his reign during the Golden Age of Narnia, Peter could not recall one instance when he truly wished that he was not High King. There were moments of exuberant anger when he alluded to such wishes, but deep down the thoughts were hollow and forged. Narnia was his home, his soul, and his purpose for living. The protection of his people was Peter's only thought and his everlasting duty, but decisions seemed easier then, for Aslan was beside him during times of need, and disorder was nothing more than a small hiccup in their continuous peace. Peter's people, his siblings and loved ones, even himself, were never truly faced with the possibility of death. Mistakes were made along the way, but they never went beyond the soothing breath of the Great Lion, or the life saving liquid of Lucy's cordial.

This time was different.

This time death seemed unavoidable—absolute. It was certain that Narnians would lose their lives, and a great possibility that any one of the royals were condemned to the same fate. In this moment of insecurity and apprehension, Peter wished that he was not High King. His thoughts were silent, his stone cold stare and tight back gave no indication of the growing dread inside of him, but hidden below his calloused exterior Peter was a boy with the world placed on his shoulders.

Although Peter's love always belonged first and foremost to his siblings, small portions of it were drifting into the soul of another. Cara had never known peace. She had never danced among the glowing fireflies in the fields beyond Cair Paravel, or sailed along Narnia's golden shores. Peter wanted to give her that. He wished to offer her the Narnia she never knew, but as problems continued to unfold, Peter's focus was nothing more than attempting to keep her alive.

The woman that consumed Peter's mind stood beside him along with Edmund and a Narnian scout, all staring out over the valley before them and into the first visible trees of the opposite woods. Three Telmarines sat upon horseback. The soldiers did little to shield themselves, their presence nothing more than a taunting threat. With a sudden yell and a show of swords, they turned their horses and disappeared back into the woods and out of sight. The faun turned to his High King; his eyes were grave and worried, yet gleaming with the trust that Peter the Magnificent would find the solution.

Cara looked to Peter as well, her fingers brushing softly against his in the hope of earning his attention—attention that was so fully hers just earlier that morning. Both royals awoke with giddy smiles and a small bounce in their step that was visible to all. Susan cast each disapproving glances during breakfast, for their faces were the perfect depiction of absolute happinesss, which caused the gentle Queen to realize that Peter had quite obviously not heeded her warning. For that reason, Susan vowed to keep at least one of them in constant sight, which Cara and Peter found to be more of a game than a hindrance.

As the morning continued with duties and commands, Peter and Cara attempted to escape the watchful eye of Susan, both laughing quietly when they found her gaze upon them once again. Nearly two hours into their game of cat and mouse, Peter was able to meander away from his sister when called on by Glentorm and Reepicheep. Without Peter as a distraction, Cara found herself working steadily with Caspian, both attempting to equip each soldier with a complete set of armor.

"She's not looking," Caspian whispered as he leaned in close to Cara. Before them stood a minotaur who was becoming increasingly difficult to fit with armor due to his sheer size. Cara stopped attempting to set his breast plate at Caspian's words.

"Sorry?" she asked with a look of confusion.

"Susan," he responded. "She isn't watching you." Cara glanced behind her to find the spot where Susan had been sitting empty. Caspian smiled softly to her and nudged her shoulder.

"Go on then; I'm excited to see her look of panic when she returns and you are no longer here." Cara looked at the vacant seat again and bit her lip before returning her eyes to Caspian and smiling.

"You are nearly as much trouble as we are," she whispered causing Caspian to laugh. With one last meaningful smile, Cara dropped the armor in her hands and disappeared out of the chamber. She felt freer than she had in ages; her heart was pumping with the giddy beat of a child, and her feet were unable to stay planted in one spot.

The High Queen wandered the corridors of the How in search of Peter for nearly an hour, her lips and hands craving the feel of his and the bubbling anticipation of finding him filling her chest.

Peter, having managed to finish his conversation with his general and troops, began to search the corridors as well. It was not long before he spotted her, and in a cliché act of romance, Peter hid behind a turn and waited with an erratic heart for his moment to pounce.

The moment came with clutching hands and a small scream. Cara struggled against Peter's chest, her elbows flailing until they finally came into contact with the High King's stomach. Peter let out an _oaff_ as his arms dropped from around her and his feet stumbled back. Cara whipped around quickly at the release of her attacker. Peter looked back at her with laughing eyes and a mysterious smirk. Cara's face softened into a smile at the sight of him, both royals staring bashfully back at each other. Now that they were finally alone, it seemed that neither knew quite what to do.

Cara's heart quickened as Peter took a slow step towards her; his blue eyes staring purposefully back at hers. The High Queen waited with anticipation for his lips to meet hers, but the moment did not come, for the sound of Susan's distant voice caused Peter to pull back as if burnt.

"Is this also on her list of what not to do?" Cara asked with a laugh as they peered around the corner at the quickly approaching Queen. "I feel as if I am running from my mother," she added. Peter smiled at Cara's remark before returning to the safely of the corridor and pulling Cara with him. "What are you doing?" she asked with a giggle as Peter entered into a jog. Peter merely sent her a lopsided grin, his hand clutching tighter around her as he turned down another corridor and pulled the only torch from the wall.

Cara watched with a bemused expression as the High King extinguished the flame, which caused a blanket of black to fill the corridor. "Peter?" Cara asked with a laugh, her eyes trying to adjust to the lack of light. Peter's hands quickly met hers, and even though Cara could barely see him, she could feel the warmth of his body as he slowly pushed her against the wall and moved closer. Cara's heart raced with the same speed as the night before, her body yearning to be closer to his in a way that was foreign only days earlier.

"This is highly improper," Cara said in a breathless voice as Peter continued to move closer.

"Then tell me to stop," the High King responded, his smirk apparent in the dark. Cara struggled to form the words, but Peter's breath on her face and his body pressing against her was far too intoxicating.

"Peter!" Susan's voice rang out from down the hall. Peter sighed as he pulled back from Cara and rested his head on the opposite wall. "Honestly," her voice continued.

"I'm here, Susan," Peter said as he left the darkness and stepped into the light of another torch. Cara stayed hidden in the shadows as Susan came into view and glared at her brother.

"Where have you been?" she asked as the two moved down the corridor and farther from Cara.

"Just handling a few things," Peter answered, causing Susan to glance wearily at him.

"Well you now have a few more things to handle," Susan responded before falling into a long list of duties that Peter had to fulfill during the day. Once both were out of sight, Cara moved from the shadows and turned down another corridor, her face still sporting the blatant smile that she had worn all day.

It was not long after this moment that the faun spotted the soldiers and called to his Kings and Queens. At the mention of soldiers, Peter's newly found happiness seemed to disappear. Not an hour ago, the feel of Cara's fingers brushing against his would have caused a feeling of excitement to flow through him. Now the touch only reminded the High King of all he had to live for and of everything he could lose. Even in his mind Peter was unable to conjure up any thought that ended in a Narnian victory. Waiting equaled death. Leaving equaled death. Feeling all eyes upon him, Peter finally turned to Edmund.

"Gather a meeting together in the chamber of the Stone Table. All need to be present," he said sternly. Edmund gave his brother concerned nod before disappearing down the trap door of the How. "Go with him," Peter added to the faun, who happily rushed after his King and out of sight.

"How did you deal with these decisions?" Peter asked after a moment of stiff silence when only he and Cara remained.

"What do you mean?" Cara questioned as she turned her gaze towards him. Peter let out another sigh and ran his fingers through his hair before beginning his typical pacing.

"Every choice I have results in the inevitability of death. If we are to leave the How, we will be slaughtered. If we say, the Telmarines will surely attack, and as you have said before this place is no fortress. Again, we will be slaughtered. Slower, but the results are still the same," Peter explained with sporadic hand movements as he walked quickly along the rocks of the How.

"Peter," Cara interjected as he tried to prolong his rant, but the High King ignored her voice and continued his quick words. "Peter," she yelled louder in the hopes of gaining his attention, but again he disregarded her. Finally Cara stepped into Peter's path and shoved him in the shoulders.

"Peter," she said softly as he stared down at her with his golden hair falling into his eyes. With a hesitant hand, Cara moved his hair from his eyes and stroked his cheek. "Your greatest asset as High King is also your weakest."

"You care too much," she added when Peter's eyes stared down at her in confusion. Peter rolled his eyes slightly and pulled back from Cara's hands. "You do, Peter. No other King would have saved those children. Most would have sent soldiers. You put your life in danger for your people in a way that I have never seen before."

"And look where that got us, Cara," Peter responded. "The children nearly died; Edmund nearly died, and you—" Peter stopped mid-sentence as he looked to the Queen before him. A vision of her splashed with red and looking pale quickly entered his mind. Peter rubbed his hands over his eyes to get rid of the sight before continuing his sentence, "—you were harmed as well. Now the Telmarines know precisely where we are, and every option we have leaves us with little hope of survival."

"Yes, Peter," Cara said as she walked closer to him and placed her small hand on his torso. "Narnians will die. No matter what you choose, loss of life is unavoidable. Let go of trying to save everyone, and pick the option that saves the most. Narnia is no longer in a Golden Age, and quite honestly it never will be again."

Peter pulled away from Cara and returned his eyes to the horizon. After a moment of silence he clamped his hands into fists and turned towards the trap door. "I think I have a plan," he said as he passed Cara and pulled up on the large rock. Cara watched him as he passed, her face displaying a look of concern.

"What do you have in mind?" she asked. Peter glanced at her, his hand still propping open the heavy door.

"I will tell you when I address the group," he answered before indicating for her to enter the door. With a small scowl Cara made her way down the door and towards the chamber of the Stone Table. Peter followed close behind her, his left hand grasping tightly to Rhindon as the two royals walked into the chamber, which was now overflowing with all that remained of Narnia.

Silence filled the room as Peter walked into the center of his people, while Cara made her way over to Susan and Caspian. Both greeted her with a silent nod—Susan was kind enough to add a glare—before turning their full attention to Peter. With his hand still clutched tightly around Rhindon, Peter turned slowly around the room and took in the sight of his people. Although their numbers filled the room, what was before him was pitiful fourth of what Narnia used to be.

Peter's circle ended as he eyes fell upon Cara. She nodded softly to him, her support giving Peter the strength to explain his decision. With one last small sigh, Peter began. "I am sure that the happenings of last night are no secret to any of you. I am also sure that the appearance of Telmarine soldiers not a mile from the How has also reached your ears. We are discovered. Our last and only place of protection is now a spot on the Telmarine map. All that stands between us and them is the finalization of the bridge. For this reason, we have no choice but to act."

"What do you propose we do, your Majesty?" Reepicheep asked with excitement. Caspian walked forward and began to speak, his voice rolling over Peter's response. Peter stopped immediately and stared at the boy, his eyes commanding Caspian to stand down. The Prince looked solemn, but he said no more. Finding the room quiet once again, Peter turned to the mouse and continued.

"Our only hope is to strike them before they strike us."

"You mean take the castle?" Cara asked with a small frown.

"That is precisely what I mean," Peter answered.

"But that is crazy," Caspian cut in as he stepped closer to Peter. "No one has ever taken that castle."

"There's always a first time," Peter responded with confidence. Cara sighed softly and rubbed her fingers over her eyes. Peter obviously took her advice slightly too far.

"We will have the element of surprise," Trumpkin added, but was quickly cut off by Caspian.

"But we have the advantage here," the Prince said as he gestured around the How.

"If we dig in we could probably hold them off indefinitely," Susan mentioned as she rose from her spot on a stone and came to stand beside Caspian. Peter looked at her with cold eyes, his mind reeling with the fact that she was taking Caspian's side.

"I, for one, feel safer underground," Trufflehunter added softly, causing Peter to frown at the unusual negativity. Even though he tried to subdue his thoughts, he felt as if Caspian was to blame for the uproar, for it was the Prince that first questioned Peter's plan.

"Look," Peter said as he walked closer to Caspian, "I appreciate what you have done here, but this isn't a fortress; it's a tomb."

"Yes," Edmund quickly added, "and if they're smart, the Telmarines will just wait and starve us out."

"We could collect nuts," Pettertwig the squirrel interjected with enthusiasm.

"Yes," said Reepicheep with a look of disgust, "and throw them at the Telmarines. Shut up," he added before turning to Peter. "I think you know where I stand sire."

"And where does the High Queen stand?" Trumpkin asked as he watched Cara hiding in the corner. Soon the Queen found all eyes upon her, and with a heavy sigh she squared her jaw and looked to her people.

"I agree with Peter when he says that this How is nothing more then a tomb." Her words quickly caused a small smile to appear on Peter's face, but as she continued, his newly formed smile slowly disappeared. "However, I support Caspian on his stance regarding the attack." Caspian looked to the Queen with wide eyes. Never in a million years did he believe that the High Queen would side with him against the King.

Peter watched with a stone stare as Cara approached the center of the circle and looked intently at him. "These people will offer no mercy. We need to stay where we know our surroundings and strengths better than they do. If we enter the walls of that castle, the loss of life will be of greater numbers than you can imagine," Cara said as she came to stand before Peter.

"If we stay here we will be slaughtered like beasts," Peter countered.

"When I reigned it took nearly two years for the Telmarines to overcome this How. It has capabilities that you can not imagine," Cara responded in a even tone.

"So you suggest we stay here and die?" the High King asked.

"No," Cara answered. "I suggest we stay here and fight."

"I agree," Caspian added. "As I mentioned before; here we have the advantage." Peter attempted to control his rising frustration. Only ten minutes ago Cara was urging him to cast aside his fear and make a decision. Now every option he presented was wrong. He needed her beside him again. He needed her confidence.

"If we can sneak into the castle and kill Miraz, we won't have to fight. I have a plan, Cara, and I will need your complete support to accomplish it," Peter explained, his voice becoming slightly pleading at the end. "I understand where all of you are coming from, but it is possible to do this. I can feel it."

The chamber filled with silence as Cara and Peter stood quietly staring at each other. Peter's eyes were no longer angry, but earnest and determined. Finally Cara sighed and nodded her head softly. "I will do as my King asks," she responded. Peter's lips twitched slightly as his gaze left Cara and landed on Glenstorm.

"If I can get your troops in, can you handle the guards?" he asked the general. Glenstorm looked passed Peter and too Caspian, before returning his eyes to his King and nodding.

"Or die trying, my liege."

"That's what I'm worried about," Lucy said softly from behind Peter causing the High King to whip around with a look of confusion.

"Sorry?" he asked.

"Well, you're all acting like there are only two options: dying here, or dying there," the Queen responded from on top of the Stone Table, the carved eyes of Aslan staring down upon Peter from over her shoulder.

"I'm not sure you've really been listening, Lu," Peter remarked.

"No," she replied, "you're not listening, or have you already forgotten who really defeated the White Witch, Peter?" Peter clenched his jaw in response and turned away from the depiction of the Great Lion.

"I think we've waited for Aslan long enough." An awkward silence filled the room at Peter's words, but no one went against the High King. Not even Lucy commented on Peter's outright rejection of their Lord.

"What are our orders, then?" Cara finally asked, for the silence was becoming too heavy. Peter turned to her with a small look of thanks.

"We use the griffons."

BBBBBB

The night was clear and cool. Lucy stood at the entrance of the How watching as Glenstorm and his soldiers moved quietly into the forest, their swords and armor glinting under the light of Narnia's two moons. The young Queen looked over the valley with sad eyes, her heart reaching out to Aslan and praying for his support and love. So often the Queen had told others to heed the thoughts and orders of their High King, but as she watched six griffons swoop and glide in the sky until they landed softly before her, she wished that Caspian, Edmund, Susan—anyone—had stood stronger against Peter's commands.

Lucy turned when she felt a soft hand on her shoulder. Cara's face shown down from above her, the moon igniting her form as she stepped out of the How. The High Queen said nothing, but in a move to offer comfort she kissed Lucy's hair before walking towards one of the griffons. Caspian brushed passed only moments later, his step and tight shoulders indicating his unhappiness with the situation. Edmund and Trumpkin soon followed, both talking quietly about the night that lay ahead of them.

Edmund's torch was clutched tightly in his hand, and despite the circumstances, Lucy could not help but giggle at the memory of the commotion the small relic from England had aroused among the Narnian's.

The plans for the raid were nearly set in stone when Caspian brought up the important point of communication. Peter had rubbed his temples in response, his mind aching with the occurrence of yet another hole in their complex invasion. Cara and Susan sighed as well, for both Queens were beyond tired of being locked up in a room filled with far too much testosterone and opinions.

Although Caspian tried his hardest to subdue his anger and distaste for Peter's blatant disregard for the other's opinions, occasionally his attitude would bubble over in the form of small comments or complaints. In turn, Peter did little to control the power he held with his station, which created an atmosphere of constant tension.

Finally, after nearly thirty minutes of ideas concerning communication, Edmund jumped from his seat sporting a content smile and excited eyes. "I've got it," he said suddenly, which caused the rest of the group to look at him with bemused expressions. "I truly have no idea how the thought of it slipped my mind, for truly it is the best thing w—"

"For heaven's sake, spit it out," Peter interjected.

"My electric torch," Edmund explained with a look of pride. Cara, Caspian, Trumpkin, Glenstorm, and the few other native Narnians present looked to each other with confused expressions while the Pevensies all smiled in delight.

"Bravo, Ed," Peter said as he slapped his brother on the back. "Truly good thinking."

"An _electric_ torch?" Caspian asked, which caused the rest sitting in confusion to nod in consent to his question.

"I will show you," Edmund responded as he hurried out of the room. A few minutes later the King returned with a small object clutched in his hand. Cara remembered it from the night Peter awoke her, but she never paid much attention to the strange item.

"What does it do?" Caspian questioned as Edmund passed the small object over.

"Press this button here," Edmund answered as he indicated to a small lever that shifted back and forth. With a brow furled in interest, the Prince placed his thumb on the button and pushed. Not a second later brilliant white light shot from its end causing Caspian to yell in alarm and toss it from his hands. The torch sailed through the air and directly towards Glenstorm, who jumped out of the way just in time for it to crash into the dirty ground of the How. Silence filled the chamber as all its occupants stared at the small object and the eerie light it admitted.

Slowly a giggle fell from Lucy's lips, followed by another, and another. Edmund looked to his younger sister and laughed as well, which caused both Cara and Peter to emit small laughs in unison. The sounds of happiness proved contagious, for soon the entire chamber was laughing whole heartily, all allowing their pent up emotions to spill out in sounds of glee.

Soon the commotion ended and the conclusion of the plans began. Everyone had tight orders, all depending on each other to be completely successful. Peter made it perfectly clear that the entire raid relied on the accomplishment of everyone's separate duties. After Peter's final words, all went their separate ways to prepare for the battle that loomed ahead.

All laughter that was shared during the explanation of the electric torch was now long gone, save for the small smile that still rested on Lucy's Lips as she watched Edmund disappear into the glowing sky clutched in the talons of a great griffon. Peter and Susan exited the How just as Edmund vanished into the vast sky. Both wore grave faces as they passed Lucy and headed for the griffons, which were moving about excitedly in the quiet night.

"Ready then?" Peter asked his companions. Susan and Cara nodded quickly and moved to their mounts, while Caspian paid little attention to the arrival of the High King. Truly Trumpkin was the only one that seemed anywhere near excited about what was to come. With a heavy sigh, Peter made his way to his mount as well, and after casting one last look at Lucy, the four royals and Trumpkin disappeared into the sky as Edmund had only minutes earlier.

Lucy watched them go with a feeling of apprehension. Something told her that someone would not return.


	15. My Own Worst Enemy

_Hey guys! I am SO sorry that it has taken me nearly three weeks to post this chapter. Lets just say that life got in the way, but when august starts up the chapters should come in a steady stream. I hope you enjoy this chapter..it is nice and long! I wish I could spend more time on it, but I really wanted to get something posted for you guys. Let me know what you think! _

Chapter 14

My Own Worst Enemy

Peter's plan should have worked.

Every aspect was perfect; every detail was fleshed out, but the one thing Peter did not plan for—the one thing that could ruin it all—was the one thing that happened.

Beside the High King stood Cara and Caspian, both looking anxiously out into the vast sky as Edmund and his griffon disappeared into the moisture of a low cloud. Nearly all of Narnia stood at the edge of the Shuddering Wood, all filled with anticipation and fear of what was to come.

Now a mile from the forest, Edmund stared purposefully ahead with his electric torch clutched tightly in his hand. The only sound he could hear was the beating of his griffon's wings and the cool air as it rushed through his hair and passed his face. The night was still and quiet, a perfect opposite of what was to come.

As the griffon flew higher into the air, the thick fog hovering over the ground vanished below, and the concrete turrets of the Telmarine stronghold appeared in a glowing, ghostly white. The walls reached high into the sky, and a deep fracture in the land surrounded all sides. One lone bridge jetted from the front of the stark walls, making the castle seem almost impossible to infiltrate. It was a perfect display of the raw power that the Telmarines possessed, and the sight of it fueled both Edmund's hatred and fear for the people that dwelled within its walls.

Slowly the faded lines of the distant turrets became solid and distinct. At Edmund's command, the griffon moved even higher into the air and headed for the outermost turret. A Telmarine soldier became visible the closer they flew, his eyes gazing boringly straight ahead.

With one silent sweep, Edmund glided to the back of the turret, the griffon's claws immediately latching on to the rough roof. In an attempt to shield itself, the griffon pulled its wings close to its body creating a gust of wind and soft _whoosh_ in the process. The guard turned instantly, his eyes now moving erratically behind him.

Edmund moved quickly away from the griffon and crouched close to the roof. Silence moved across the area once again, and deciding that the sounds were nothing of concern, the soldier turned back around and continued to look before him. The griffon glanced to Edmund, its talons itching to pounce. With a small nod Edmund gave the signal.

Moving without sound, the griffon lurched forward and latched on to the back of the guard. Edmund dropped to the ground just as the Telmarine disappeared into the night with a small gasp. Staying low to the ground, Edmund glanced around and listened. The night remained still and quiet. Confident that he had entered the castle completely unnoticed, Edmund moved forward and looked to the sky before him. Still seeing nothing, he pulled his electric torch from his pocket and reached his arm forward.

A tang of fear rushed through Edmund's body, his thumb hesitating to press the small button under it. With a quick sigh and quiet words of reassurance, Edmund forced his thumb downward and watched as a bright beam erupted from the end of his arm.

"There's the signal," Peter said as his eyes caught sight of the distant flickering light. Cara stared at it in the hope that it would vanish, but it remained constant and unwavering. Feeling Peter's eyes on her, Cara turned to the High King. "I need you with me," he said softly.

"I trust you," she whispered back, but her eyes shown with little hope. Peter gave a shallow nod before moving towards his griffon. The giant creature lifted its wings high into the air and grasped tightly onto its King. Caspian and Cara glanced to each other as they too were lifted into the air. Both royals attempted to mask their apprehension with a look of defiance, but it was clear that neither supported Peter's bold move.

Watching in silence from the ground were Glenstorm and his troops, their eyes following the skies. As the griffons became shrouded in darkness and fog, the general slowly stepped from the covering of the woods with his troops moving steadily behind him. Narnia was finally stepping forth, and even though all feared what was to come, pride and anticipation filled the hearts of the troops as they completely left the covering of the dense trees and made their way across the valley and towards the power that had suppressed them.

Peter's hand was gripped tightly around the hilt of Rhindon as he made is way passed Edmund's post and deeper into the grounds of the castle. Seeing their point of landing, he indicated for Cara and Susan to pull into the lead. Both Queens did as told, their griffons increasing speed and dipping lower over the castle. Scampering unseen below them were Reepicheep and his troop, their small eyes watching as their leaders began the assault on the castle.

The soldiers noticed them immediately, their eyes wide with fear and their arms locked with astonishment. Cara's dagger flew quickly from her hand and landed in the heart of the closest guard. Susan's arrow found its destination as well, both soldiers crumbling to the ground with hardly a sound.

Seeing another Telmarine moving in the shadows, Caspian urged his griffon forward and wiggled his feet from its tight grasp. Understanding the Prince's motives, the giant creature opened its talons and allowed Caspian to swing his body forward and kick the soldier from his perch. With a quick flick of his body, the Prince was once again secured in the grasp of the griffon.

Peter quickly pulled back into the lead, his griffon dipping low over the castle and moving towards a long stretch of open stone. More soldiers became visible as the group continued to glide closer to the ground. Caspian and Peter landed first, their swords moving in the moonlight as they quickly killed the few soldiers that had witnessed their arrival. The remaining three landed not long after, all stooping low as they moved forward and into the shadows.

Cara's heart beat rapidly as she glanced around. They were in, and there was now no possibility of turning back. Peter looked determined from beside her, his eyes scanning the area and calculating their next move.

"You can reach the bridge controls from that chamber across the way," Caspian whispered to Peter. "The controls for the gate are along the other side and a floor lower." The High King nodded in understanding and turned to Cara. Her gaze quickly met his, both understanding that their paths now parted. With a rapidly beating heart Peter pulled her hand into his and squeezed it tightly.

"You know what to do," he said softly. Cara nodded in silence before releasing her hand from Peter's and continuing down the corridor.

"Trumpkin," she whispered as she moved behind him, "our duty begins now." The dwarf looked to his King before falling in line behind Cara and disappearing into the darkness.

Peter stared into the shadows long after they were gone. "Peter!" Susan said in a harsh whisper, causing the High King's eyes to finally return their focus. "More guards are coming." Peter glanced passed his sister and down the faintly lit corridor. A small group of Telmarines were only seconds from discovering the already dead soldiers.

"Take them out," Peter responded as he moved from the shadows and ran towards the soldiers with his sword held high. Caspian and Susan quickly followed, both posed and ready for attack. The Telmarines fell quickly and quietly, Peter and Caspian's swords glinting with slight red in the shrouded light of the moon.

"We need to enter the castle," Peter whispered as they moved passed the dead and back into the shadows.

"Follow me," Caspian responded and began to move forward once again. Soon the three royals were situated at the top of a high pillar, all hunkering low and gazing over the edge.

"We can enter from the room just beneath us," Caspian whispered as Peter and Susan continued to glance at the ground below.

"Are you sure?" Susan asked with apprehension.

"Perfectly," answered the Prince. "These are my professor's chambers."

"We will need rope," Peter mentioned as he pushed himself from the ledge and began to look around. Caspian smirked in the dark and indicated to a line of rope looped around his arm. Peter looked at the rope with utter confusion.

"Where did that co—you know what, I don't even care. Let's go," he said with a small smile. Caspian immediately went to work tying the rope tightly around one of the square stones at the edge of the ledge. Once it was completely secure, he tightened his grip and swung himself over the edge. Moving quickly, Peter and Susan followed close behind, all praying that they would not be spotted in their vulnerable state.

Caspian landed on the ledge with a small _thump_ before untangling himself from the rope and peering into the window. Everything seemed still beyond the thick glass, but just to make sure, the Prince tapped lightly on the window and called for his professor. He was met with silence. With a worried sigh, Caspian pulled his dagger from his belt and slid it into the latch of the large window. It popped open only moments later allowing Caspian to climb quickly inside and make room for Peter and Susan.

The room was crowded with books, papers, old artifacts, and paintings. Nearly every surface was covered by something. Peter entered the chamber not long after Caspian, his eyes scanning the area and taking in the blatant display of old Narnia. Before moving entirely into the room, he caught sight of an open book on a far table. It was illustrated with drawings of fauns and satyrs, the images giving Peter another push of confidence and pride.

Caspian moved around the room before him, he eyes searching in the shadows. It was obvious that they were alone in the chambers, which caused the Prince's heart to fill with apprehension. Caspian could feel Susan and Peter's eyes on him as he walked closer to a small table and picked up an ancient pair of spectacles.

"I have to find him," he said as he turned to Peter.

"You don't have time," Peter responded. "You need to get the gate open."

Frustration and anger swelled in Caspian's chest at Peter's words. "You wouldn't even be here without him," he shot back in a harsh whisper causing Peter's brow to furrow. Seeing his King's anger, Caspian lowered his voice and continued, "and neither would I."

Peter looked to Susan for advice, fear bubbling inside of him at the thought of his plans and orders already going astray. "We can deal with Miraz," Susan said as she looked to her brother.

"And I can still get to the gate in time," Caspian quickly added before casting Susan and look of appreciation and moving towards the farthest door. Peter sighed heavily and followed after the Prince, his mind praying that Caspian was right.

BBBBB

Cara lurched backwards as she pulled one of her daggers from the gut of a Telmarine. "Do you see anymore?" she whispered to Trumpkin as she steadied her balance and cleaned her blade.

The dwarf glanced around quickly before turning his eyes to the Queen. "Coast seems clear," he responded and moved towards the end of the corridor. Even though the halls of the castle were still and silent, every corner and every shadow seemed to hide another soldier. Following Cara and Trumpkin was a line of bodies; the ground coated with blood and abandoned swords.

Cara's heart began to pound in her chest as she moved passed Trumpkin and down another corridor. Her body pulsed with a feeling of excitement and dread. Something loomed ahead. It was pulling her forward with mumbled whispers and hazy images. The further she traveled the more hypnotized she became, her mind lost in thoughts of an ancient memory and her body reacting to only the most powerful commands.

Soft light began to seep into the corridor as Cara and Trumpkin made their way towards an open courtyard. Trying to control her now intoxicated mind, Cara rubbed her eyes and moved towards the far wall. Finding it safer for the dwarf to peer around the corner, Trumpkin glided passed his Queen and allowed his eyes to glaze over the barren stone.

"How many?" Cara asked quietly as she continued to control the pull that consumed her body.

"The courtyard seems clear, but the walls surrounding it are covered with vermin," the dwarf responded as he continued to glance around the corner. Cara let out a heavy breath, her fingers moving towards her daggers.

"Are there any shadows?" she replied as she moved towards her companion.

"None," he responded with a smirk. Resting her head on the cold stone of the wall, Cara grasped her weapons tightly and wracked her brain for any sort of plan, but her mind was shadowed by blurry images, and her body was tense with anticipation.

Finally overwhelmed by the need to continue forward, Cara pushed herself from the wall and entered the dim light of the moon. Trumpkin watched her with wide eyes as she scanned the courtyard and pulled more daggers from her armor.

"Ready your bow," she ordered without moving her gaze. The dwarf did as told, his bow quickly set with an arrow and ready in his hand.

"Move along the far wall; I shall take its opposite. We kill those across from us," she explained before moving fully into the light and slinking along the small shadow created by the height of the stones that surrounded the barren courtyard. It took only seconds for the two to be spotted, but both were prepared for the attack. Like terrified ants, the Telmarines began to run along the top of the wall and towards the steps leading to its open courtyard.

Cara and Trumpkin worked quickly, each dagger and arrow hitting its mark, but such weapons only last a limited amount of time, and before long the Queen and dwarf were pulling their swords from their sheaths and slicing anything that moved towards them.

Unburdened by a hazy mind, Trumpkin killed cleanly and moved on quickly, but Cara, who was struggling to concentrate, found her opponents to be overbearing and relentless in their attacks. With one swift move the High Queen was on her back and fighting to keep a Telmarine sword from piercing her chest. Finally finding her mind, Cara rolled quickly to the side and kicked the sword from the soldier's hand. He stumbled backwards, giving Cara time to climb to her feet and complete her attack. Moments later the man was dead, but as Cara's eyes found the entrance to a far corridor; her mind began to swim with hazy memories once again.

"Your Majesty!" Trumpkin yelled; his words warning Cara just in time to duck away from a deadly blow. Regaining focus, Cara struck the Telmarine in the legs causing him to crumble to the ground in agony. One last blow and the soldier was dead, but as Cara's mind filled with another bought of nausea, one of the few remaining soldiers attacked her from behind, slicing a thin line into her calf. Luckily Cara's thick dress protected most of her leg, but the sheering pain was enough to cause her to stumble.

Fear filled Trumpkin as he watched Cara stumble forward and onto her knees. Although she quickly climbed back to her feet and began an assault on the soldier that struck her, a small line of blood was following her along the ground, and her body tightened and winced at nearly every movement.

After defeating to the Telmarine that was pushing him towards the wall, Trumpkin run to the aid of his Queen. Cara sent him a small look of thanks as he forced the soldier to the ground and ended his life. Now only two Telmarines remained, but both the dwarf and Cara were breathing heavily and fatigued from fighting so many. As Trumpkin pulled his strength together and attacked the two soldiers, Cara's eyes began to search out the entrance to the farthest corridor, her body aching to move towards it.

A cry from Trumpkin caused Cara's mind to regain focus, and with a steadily bleeding calf, the Queen hobbled to his aid and struck the soldier in the back. Together the two companions finished off the last soldier, who seeing that his life was nearly over attempted to run. Yards from the old Narnians the soldier fell with two swords sticking from his back.

Seeing the last soldier fall, Cara heaved a great sigh and slumped onto the ground. Her leg was throbbing with every heart beat and her mind was once again swimming in a haze. Trumpkin made his way over to her and placed her small, calloused hand on her shoulder.

"We need to continue forward," he said softly as he glanced around the courtyard, which was now strewn with bodies and dyed with blood. Cara nodded at his words, but made little effort to actually move. "They will find the bodies; we don't have time," Trumpkin said in a slightly harsher tone.

Cara glanced at the dwarf before making her way to her feet. Although each step caused a jolt of pain to rush through her body, the haziness of her mind seemed to lessen as they made their way towards the farthest corridor.

Once again shrouded by the shadows of the castle, the two companions made their way quickly from the courtyard and closer to the front of the castle and the bridge control room. Cara's mind was still filled with distant images and voices, but the calls seemed to weaken the further they traveled. After nearly ten minutes of slinking and hiding, the corridor split into two long halls. One led to their destination, while the other seemed to weave off into another courtyard fall in the distance.

Trumpkin veered to the right, his body heading towards the bridge controls without a second thought, but Cara, whose body suddenly filled with a craving to follow the other hall, stopped at the split and moved her eyes back and forth between the two.

Her duties lay in the opposite direction that her heart told her to go. The voices and images grew before her eyes until she could barely see anything else. As Cara's eyes fixated on the hall before her, an image of an ancient friend moved through her mind. He was sacred and trusting, his eyes calling her forth. With little thought on the task at hand, Cara took a small step towards the empty hall. Soon one foot followed the other and her movements led her out of the corridor and into the shadows.

Finding that his Queen was not following, Trumpkin stopped his forward movement and called back to Cara. Hearing no reply, the dwarf turned quickly and tried to adjust his eyes to the change in light.

The High Queen was gone.

BBBBB

Edmund could not help but wish that he was somewhere else. He could visualize his brother—High King Peter the Magnificent—fighting his way valiantly towards the evil King Miraz accompanied by the brave Prince Caspian and Shield Maiden Queen Susan. The thought of it caused Edmund's forehead to fold into a deep scowl, for while his siblings were fighting for the good of Narnia, he was sitting bored and lonely at the top of a distant tower.

Suddenly feeling agitated with the situation, Edmund began to entertain himself with the only object within his reach—his flash light. After pretending to fight a great beast with the torches bright bean, the Just King found it amusing to attempt a balancing act. At the very moment that the small object found its center upon the King's palm, an ear piecing scream echoed off of the castles barren walls.

Startled by the sudden noise, Edmund jumped slightly and threw the electric torch off balance. With scrambling hands, Edmund attempted to catch the falling cylinder, but it slipped through his fingers and crashed onto the tower below.

With shaky breaths and wide eyes, Edmund peered over the ledge at the fallen torch. Only seconds after its fall a door flew open and a soldier walked out into the dim lighting, his eyes moving quickly about. Edmund's heart raced as the Telmarine made his way over to the lone object and kicked it with his foot. Seeing that it was nothing to fear, the soldier scooped it up and began to examine every aspect of it.

Edmund cringed when a beam of light shot from the torch and into the eyes of the soldier. Startled by the illumination, the soldier stumbled backwards before returning his eyes to the strange object. The sudden reverberating _dong_ of a distant bell pulled the soldier's gaze away from the torch and into the center of the stronghold.

At a loss of what to do, Edmund leapt from the high tower and onto the back of the soldier, both immediately crumbling to the ground. As the bell continued to ring, Edmund scrambled to his feet and pulled his sword from its sheath. The Telmarine quickly followed suite, his attack on Edmund beginning before the young King could even collect his footing.

Edmund fumbled backwards from the weight of the Telmarine sword, but with one quick duck he was able to gain the upper hand and push his attacker towards the tower ledge. The soldier sneered in protest and swung his sword low attempting to throw off the King once again, but Edmund moved quickly, his feet tucking tightly under his body as he jumped into the air. Edmund's landing would have been perfect, but his foot caught the side of the forgotten torch, which caused him to slide backwards and loose his sword.

Chuckling at the boy's mishap, the Telmarine grabbed the dropped sword and attacked Edmund with both weapons. Edmund stumbled backwards until he reached the ledge of the tower. The soldier pushed both swords towards the King's throat, forcing Edmund's back into the cold stone. Fighting for his life, Edmund blocked the final blow with both hands, his strength dwindling as he attempted to hold the soldier at bay.

"Now, Ed. Now!" Peter's voice rang out from below the fighting pair. "Signal the troops."

"I'm a bit busy, Pete," Edmund replied as he attempted to shove the soldier backwards. His attempt paid off, for the Telmarine was dazed enough by Peter's entrance to loose focus. With the soldier finally away from him, Edmund ripped his sword from his opponent's hand and began a montage of fierce attacks. Taken aback by Edmund's power, the soldier was unable to do anything more than defend himself. With one final blow, Edmund pushed the Telmarine back before grabbing the now dim torch and whacking the soldier across the head with it. Knocked unconscious, the Telmarine fell to the ground, his sword strewn out beside him.

With the soldier lying at his feet, Edmund shook his electric torch in an effort to ignite the beam. "Bloody hell," he whispered as he beat the object against the wall in frustration. Below him Peter, Susan, and Caspian were struggling to open the gate, but their success would be fruitless if Edmund was not able to signal the troops.

"Ah ha!" Edmund yelled triumphantly when light shot from the end of the torch. Instantly Edmund pushed his hand forward and began to signal. Brimming with adrenalin the troops headed towards the castle upon seeing the first light of the torch.

The battle had officially begun.

BBBBB

Cara paid little attention to the thundering bell as she maneuvered her way down halls and through courtyards. Around her the castle seemed to be erupting with life, but she fought no one, opting instead to hide behind corners and statues as guard rushed passed her, for the only thought on her mind was reaching the voice that continued to echo in her mind.

Ducking behind a bust of Caspian I, Cara watched a horde of soldiers run passed her. Beneath her hazy dreams were thoughts of Peter and a growing fear that she was not the only one trapped deep within the castle walls. With Peter in her mind, Cara began to regain her senses, but the whispers and visions fought for their place within her, and soon the High King was pushed fully out.

Finally the last of the Telmarines disappeared into the shadows of the corridor, and with shaky steps Cara made her way to her feet and down the darkened hall. Her leg throbbed beneath her, but the High Queen ignored the growing pain and continued forward.

It was not long until the moon's light began to appear before her, the hall opened into a grand courtyard at the very center of the stronghold. Cara's head swam as she walked towards it; her steps became slower and her eyes fixated. What had been calling to her was soon to be in her grasp, and the fear and excitement of finding it was overwhelming.

Unlike the majority of the castle, the courtyard was filled with an array of trees and sculptures, but Cara paid little attention to anything save for the relic in the very center. It was a great horse made of carved marble and gold, the armor on its back and neck glowing in the faint moon. His two hind hooves were planted upon the block of stone beneath him, but his front were held into the air as his body reared away from something before him.

Cara's heart pounded as she made her way towards it, her memories and visions becoming solid in her mind. Alvaro stood before her—her guard, her companion—was sleeping in stone just as she had.

With a shaky hand, Cara reached out towards the statue, her fingers grazing across the smooth surface of the horse's hoof. Looking up and the animal's exposed underbelly, she noticed that the marble encasing him still displayed the beauty of his coat. Grayish black covered his body, while spurts of white circles dotted its surface. While his sister Altair depicted the light of a star, Alvaro was the entire night sky.

Slowly Cara's palm pressed along the cold stone of his leg, immediate warmth flowing from her fingers and into his body. Hard marble turned to soft fur as Cara continued to run her hand up the sculpture's hind leg and onto his flank. Warmth shot from her fingers just as it had Peter's; the essence of life spreading quickly over the stone surface.

As Cara's hands continued to move, the brilliant gold of Alvaro's armor glinted with brilliance in the waning light, and his mane and tail began to move in the soft breeze. Without warning, the heavy front hooves of the horse lurched forward onto the marble, the power of the fall cracking the stone underneath.

Cara moved towards her companion's head as he crumbled forward off of his pillar and onto the ground. "Alvaro," she whispered repeatedly into his mane as his eyes blinked with life and his feet wobbled on the shaky ground.

With careful steps, the horse made his way back to his feet, his noble eyes scanning the courtyard surrounding him. After finding his balance, Alvaro turned his eyes towards Cara, a soft nicker leaving his mouth as he nuzzled her with his gray nose. Although Cara's head was now clear, her eyes were brimming with tears at the sight of her lost friend.

As the High Queen's fingers softly ran over Alvaro's face, his ear perked up at the sounds of distant battle and the clanking of feet on stone. Moving passed Cara, Alvaro trotted a few steps towards the battle before stopping with his head held high and his quick eyes searching. Suddenly he called; a deep sound that rolled from his chest and passed his lips. With excitement he turned to Cara before returning his gaze to the battle.

Feeling his power and drive surge through her, Cara made her way to his side and mounted, her petite figure fitting perfectly between the grooves of the golden armor. Alvaro moved forward immediately, his heavy feet pounding into the hard stone, and his ears erect with excitement.

BBBBB

Trumpkin's forehead was squeezed into tight lines as he leaned forward into the handle of the bridge lever. Slowly the giant wheel began to move, each step becoming slightly easier than the last. Below the dwarf were Reepicheep as his troop; their little feet moving steadily forward as they pushed against the bottom of the lever.

Unable to locate his High Queen, Trumpkin had continued on with their duty. With the help of the mice, he was able to make his way into the bridge control room, but the task was harder without the assistance of Cara, and the dwarf was well behind schedule.

With one last push the thunderous roar of the bridge falling echoed through the castle. Trumpkin relaxed his limbs and allowed his head to rest for a moment on the handle before him. He task was now complete, but the possibility of it being too late caused the crease in his brow to remain intact.

"To battle!" Reepicheep yelled as he pulled his sword from its sheath and made his way towards a far window. Trumpkin let out a deep breath as he pushed himself from the lever and followed after the cheering troop of valiant mice.

Trumpkin reached the window just in time to watch a horde of Narnians push passed a flimsy gate and into the castle. Telmarines began to crumble to the ground as minotaurs and centaurs cantered over them and deeper into the castle.

Reepicheep allowed another sound of excitement to leave his mouth as Peter's voice rang through the air. "For Narnia!" the mouse yelled as he jumped from the window ledge and onto the roof below it. Filled with renewed excitement, Trumpkin began to follow suit, but the door behind him flew open revealing a small group of Telmarine soldiers.

Working quickly, the dwarf readied his bow and shot the first soldier that made his way into the room, but the others followed quickly and it was only moments before they were upon him. Unable to leave his spot, Trumpkin attempted to set another arrow to his bow. Although the dwarf was fast, his speed was no match for shear strength, and as Trumpkin fell from the open window and onto the hard stone below, his mind reached out to Aslan for the very first time.

BBBBB

Peter's eyes remained on the figure of Miraz as he fought his way towards the balcony where the King was watching silently. The man was tall with broad shoulders and a dark face. His eyes watched the battle below with little interest, his posture displaying what little concern he had for Narnian victory.

Fueled by anger, Peter slashed through all that approached him. He still had a chance to make this bloodbath worth while. If he could only reach the stone cold man perched high above him, he could end this entire escapade and return Narnia to its people, but as one of his most faithful troops fell from the King's balcony with an arrow piercing his heart, Peter began to realize that this night would never end in victory. Death was approaching them all, and quickly.

Far below Peter, Susan watched in horror as the halls surrounding them began to fill with Telmarines; their bows pointed downward and ready to fire. The night filled with sharp clanking as the Telmarines managed to sever the weight holding the gait open and the metal wall fell quickly to the ground. The great minotaur Asterius charged the gate, his shoulders catching the heavy metal as it flew downward.

His thunderous voice rang out as he sunk lower into the ground, but he did not give in to the pain that was mow coursing through his shoulders. Susan's heart lurched at the sound and he eyes sought out her brother. It was over. They had to leave.

When she found him, Peter was staring open mouthed at the battle below him. They were outnumbered and soon to be trapped. After casting one quick glance to Miraz, who was sporting an arrogant smirk, Peter turned to his troop and shouted into the air. "Fall back!" he yelled as he began to descend that stairs and make his way towards the gate that was barely open.

Hearing Peter's orders, Caspian made his way quickly to the stables and the hiding place of Dr. Cornelius, whom he had managed to rescue from deep within the castle. Peter's voice continued to echo across the battle ground as he ushered his troops closer and closer towards the open gate. Susan glanced around at the horror unfolding around her. Never before had she seen such death.

"Get her out of here," Peter said to Glenstorm as he made his way passed the general. Hearing her brother's voice, Susan turned towards the approaching centaur and leapt upon his back. Soon her body was free from danger, but her heart remained in the castle and with her people.

Peter's mind filled with panic as he continued to yell for his troops to flee, and his heart raced with fear as his eyes continued to search for Cara. Around him Narnians were being slain as they attempted to retreat, and above him King Miraz ordered his general to let loose the arrows. It was impossible for all to escape, and as Peter continued to fight his way towards the gate, he began to only care for the safety of those closest to him.

"Cara!" he yelled as he looked wildly around. Only feet from him a soldier was carrying the crumbled form of Trumpkin towards the exit, but the High Queen was still nowhere to be found.

"Where is Cara?" Peter yelled to Caspian as the Prince cantered towards him with another horse in tow.

"I saw her escape," Caspian responded as he continued towards the gate. Peter nodded in response, his heart feeling slightly lighter at the Prince's words.

As more Telmarines trickled into the courtyard, Caspian spurred his horse forward. Finding his steed leaving, Peter ran quickly to the side of the rider-less horse trailing behind Caspian and leapt onto its back.

Arrows began to rain down upon them as they galloped towards the bridge and from the castle. Peter had to force himself to continue forward as his troops were slaughtered around him. With two long strides, Caspian, Dr. Cornelius, and Peter made their way beyond the gate and out of the Telmarine stronghold.

Shaking with dread, Peter stopped his horse and watched as the brave Asterius strained against the weight of the gate and the five arrows that were now sticking from his legs and torso. Finally his strength waned, and with a thunderous _clank_ the metal gate fell onto the collapsed minotaur.

Peter's heart burned as his people called to him from within the castle walls, their arms and voices reaching beyond the gate. "Peter!" Caspian's voice rang out. "The bridge!" Peter turned at the sound of the prince's voice, his eyes taking in the sight of the quickly rising bridge. After giving one last soulful glance to those dieing behind him, Peter urged his horse forward and over the small space of air created by the rising wood.

A griffon swooped low just as Peter reached the others whom had managed to escape, Edmund clinging tightly to the feather's upon its back. Peter nodded quickly to his brother before searching those around him. A deafening amount of Panic filled his chest as his eyes saw nothing of Cara.

"Where is she?" he yelled as he turned to Caspian. "You told me she escaped."

Caspian's eyes quickly surveyed the area, his body filling with just as much adrenalin and fear. "You told me she was ok," Peter shouted as he rode his horse closer to the Prince. Caspian looked at Peter with wide, frightened eyes, his mind realizing that it was Susan he had seen.

Peter's heart beat became haphazard as he looked back towards the castle. "I'm not leaving her," he said to the group, causing Susan to cling to Glenstorm in fear.

"Peter, what can you do?" the gentle Queen asked in a shaky voice. Looking wildly about, Peter turned to Edmund, his eyes focusing on the griffon before him.

"Get off," he said as he dismounted his horse and marched towards the winged creature.

"That is suicide," Caspian said as he moved his horse in front of Peter cutting him off. Peter look up at the boy with complete hatred.

"Move," he said in an even tone.

"Peter, he is right. There is nothing you can do now. We have already lost a royal; do not force us to lose another," Edmund interjected.

"Don't you dare say that," Peter shot at Edmund. "She could still be alive. She has to be alive!" he added, his voice becoming shaky and torn with fear. Edmund looked at his brother with pity, while silent tears began to work their way down Susan's cheeks.

"I'm sorry, Pete," Edmund said softly, causing Peter to clench his fingers tightly and stumble to the ground. With a sigh of regret, Edmund climbed from his griffon and made his way towards Peter. "You are High King," he said into Peter's damp hair. "Rise to your feet and return to the How. I will make a final sweep over the castle and report to you what I see."

Peter let out a shaky breath as he made his way to his feet and over to his horse. His jaw was clenched tightly in an attempt to remain calm, but all around him could see the anguish in his eyes. The High King watched as Edmund remounted the griffon and took off into the night sky, his heart reaching out to Aslan as it had not since his first departure from Narnia.

With one last look towards the castle, Peter ushered his horse into a gallop and headed for the Shuddering Woods, his mind recalling every detail that had just transpired. As the group rode forward, hatred began to take the place of sadness, for Peter's mind seemed to grasp onto the simple fact that Caspian had abandoned his duties to pursue selfish wants. The loss of life and the loss of the High Queen were all the fault of Caspian's failures.

Little did the High King know, Cara's predicament was caused by the very same thing.

_What happened to Cara?? Find out soon! Please review!!_


	16. Behind Walls of Stone

_Hey everyone! I hope you enjoy the next chapter. PLEASE leave a review and let me know what you think (I'm kind of iffy about this one). I promise to reward you with some happiness. _

Chapter 15

Behind Walls of Stone

Sound was everywhere. Overwhelming, moving sound that ricocheted off of the walls and into the crevasses of Cara's burning head. She could see the blurred image of Alvaro struggling yards away, his high pitched shrieks and stomping hooves adding to the madness of her overwhelming dream.

Small patches of light filtered through the gaps of the wooden doors; the beams exposing the floating dirt and dust whirled around by Alvaro's struggling body. Cara tried to focus her eyes on the bodies that moved around her, but they were quick and shadowed by dark armor. Feeling a small trickle of sensation run down the side of her cheek, Cara attempted to lift her shaky fingers towards her head. She met resistance. Coarse rope rubbed against her aching flesh, the thick twine cutting deeper into her skin.

Trying to avoid the darkness that threatened to engulf her, Cara opened her eyes wide and searched the room. The outlines were skewed, but with steady concentration the High Queen was able to distinguish four soldiers attempting to quiet Alvaro, while many others lined the walls. One of them she recognized. His face was barren of any helmet or armor, and his eyes shown with a sadness that seemed to be lacking in all the others. Cara searched her memory for the man that looked at her with kindness—searched her memory for the reason why she was now tied to a chair and bleeding profusely.

It all happened quickly. Cara reached the front courtyard only moments before the gate fell onto the back of Asterius and crushed him into the ground. Then arrows began to pour from the skies, killing Telmarines as well as Narnians. Soldiers crammed against each other as they rushed to the sides of the courtyard, their fists banging against the now closed gates.

Cara pulled Alvaro towards the one archway that was wide enough to house the two of them, but soldiers were fighting for its protection as well, their swords keeping Cara from entering the small area. Lacking any sort of protection, arrows pierced her instantly, their sharpened ends diving deep into her shoulder and legs. Cara screamed in agony and fell forward, her eyes catching sight of those already dead upon the ground.

Alvaro reacted instantly to the cries of pain that escaped his Queen's mouth. With flattened ears he wheeled around and charged the Telmarines cowering under the archway. The men yelled in protest and fought to jab Alvaro's armor and legs, but the horse moved forward completely undeterred, his weight crashing into those before him. Soon Cara was beyond the reach of the arrows, but the soldiers around her continued their relentless attacks.

Gathering her quickly fleeing strength, Cara returned a counter attack, her sword moving around Alvaro's body. The horse fought as well, his massive body pressing soldiers against the stone walls and his hooves pushing others into the ground.

Finally the last soldier fell; his body crumbling under Alvaro's hind feet. Breathing heavily, Cara turned her eyes to the mass of death scattered across the courtyard. Narnians littered the ground, their blood and weapons mixing with those of the Telmarines who were not lucky enough to escape their own arrows. Cara's hands began to shake from both weakness and fear, her sword clanking against the hard stone as it slipped through her fingers. She watched in horror as her last comrade was slain by one final arrow. Soon silence spread across the castle, Cara and a few Telmarines the only survivors.

"Peter," Cara whispered as images of a bloodied High King entered her mind. Wildly, Cara urged Alvaro into the courtyard, the horse tripping over the dead that scattered the ground. With little thought, Cara slid from Alvaro's back and began to fumble over bodies, her eyes searching for any sign of Peter.

Above her Miraz and his men slipped from the balcony, all secure in the belief that no Narnians survived. With one last order to clean up the mess, Miraz returned to his chambers and entered his bed with little thought or worry concerning all that happened during the night.

As Cara searched through the mass of crumbled bodies, an ache began to burn through her body. Still pierced by an arrow, her shoulder became weak and heavy, while her legs pulsed with fatigue and pain. Struggling not to panic, Cara slumped into the ground and covered her face with her hands. The only bodies around her where those of Narnian soldiers, bringing peace to her mind that Peter was safe, but that peace was squashed by the realization that she was now alone, trapped within the barren stone walls of the Telmarine stronghold.

Overtaken by fatigue and dizzy from her wounds, Cara collapsed completely onto the ground and closed her eyes. Blood trickled from her shoulder and leg, its loss causing weakness to overwhelm her. Alvaro stood beside his Queen as darkness gripped her mind and pulled her into a world filled with distant sounds and blurry light.

Nearly two hours passed before the soldiers made their way to where Cara had fallen. Alvaro was now lying beside her, his body and breathing nearly as quiet as his Queen's. Working slowly, the Telmarines grabbed bodies and flung them into carts, collecting weapons and armor as they went. Alvaro watched them intently, his eyes moving quietly back and forth from behind his armor.

The horse remained perfectly still until two soldiers moved to grab Cara. Both men jumped back in surprise as Alvaro clamored to his feet and stood defensively before them. Their alarm lessoning, the soldiers made their way back to Cara's body. Alvaro shook his head in protest and pawed the ground before him.

"He's a jumpy one," the Telmarine closest to Cara said with a slight laugh.

"Well if we don't get a handle on him, we won't be able to chuck the rest of the bodies," the other responded as he eased towards Alvaro. The horse reacted instantly, his hooves lunging towards the soldier in an attempt to push him back. Stumbling backwards the soldier let out a small cry, which caused his companion to let out another deep laugh.

"Too much for you?" he asked as he continued to laugh. With a glare the other soldier turned and called for more to come and help. Soon Alvaro was surrounded by five Telmarines, all attempting to gain control of the unruly horse as he continued to rear and avoid their grasp.

During the struggle, Cara began to wake from her semiconscious state, the outside noises delving into her dreams and pulling her from the darkness. As her mind grasped hold of the world around her, the burning pain from her wounds shot into her conscious. Cara let out a deep moan of agony and attempted to roll away from her aching shoulder.

"We got a live one," the Telmarine closest to her yelled as he pulled his sword from its sheath and poked her with it.

"Just finish it off," a distant voice responded.

"It's not an it," the first soldier responded as Cara rolled and exposed her feminine face to the man. "It's a her."

"Is it a Narnian?" the soldier shot back in a harsh tone.

"Well, yeah," came the reply.

"The kill _it_!"

The soldier closest to Cara shot the other a glare before rolling the Queen flat on her back and raising his sword into the air. Cara's eyes struggled to open as the arrow in her shoulder punched deeper into her flesh and a bout of nausea ran through her at the new sensation of pain.

"Wait!" a voice called just as Cara's eyes were able to focus on the blade above her. She watched with shallow breaths as the blade disappeared from view and a new soldier towered above her. His voice was soft and commanding as he gave orders to those around him. Cara attempted to remain conscious as she felt her body being lifted and moved, but her mind quickly began to fade until all she could hear was Alvaro's panicked calls and all she could see was the warmth of the brown eyes that danced above her.

They were the same eyes that were now watching her intently from across the room. Cara's stared back, her dark pools pleading silently for him to free her hands. The soldier pulled his gaze quickly away and placed it on the still fighting Alvaro, causing Cara's chest to swell with lost hope and fear. Still moving in a daze, the High Queen glanced around the chamber, her eyes brimming with small tears and her body shaking with fatigue and pain.

The sound of a distant door banging opened caused Cara's eyes to snap back to where the soldier stood. Now beside him was a tall man with broad shoulders and a stern, dark face. He watched Cara with a smirk as she attempted to lift her head fully and look at him.

"Who is she?" the man questioned those around him.

The soldier that saved Cara stepped forward and nodded his head in respect. "She wears the armor of a royal, your Highness. I thought you might wish to bestow your gratitude upon her," he answered softly. Cara watched the man, whom she could only guess to be Miraz, step towards her. She lifted her chin in defiance as he stopped before her, his mouth turned in a look of disgust. Saying nothing, he sank to his knees until his eyes were level with hers. "Your people will die," he whispered as he moved closer to her face, "just as you are about to."

With a small sneer, he stood to his full height and walked until he was standing behind the chair that Cara was tied to. "This is what we are dealing with," Miraz said to his men. "Barbarians that send women into battle. Feeble. Sad. _Weak_ women," he continued as he clutched the arrow still in Cara's shoulder and ripped it backward. Cara screamed in agony and attempted to keep the bile in her stomach from spilling onto the floor.

Too weak to cry, she fell forward, her teeth gripping tightly to her bottom lip. The soldier with kind eyes watched the scene silently, his face trying to hide the disgust that bubbled in his chest.

"My Lord," the soldier said suddenly.

"What Glozelle?" Miraz asked as he walked in front of Cara and made his way towards the door.

"Might I try to expel some information from her?" he responded after a moment of silence. Miraz looked back at Cara, his mind working its way around Glozelle's question.

"Very well," he finally answered. "Inform me of any news, and get that ridiculous animal under control," he finished as he gestured to the fighting form of Alvaro. Glozelle bowed as Miraz marched from the room and out of sight.

"Untie her," Glozelle ordered two soldiers.

"General?" a soldier asked with hesitation.

"Do it," he responded. "Then leave us alone." The soldiers watched their General in silence before moving quickly to Cara and cutting her arms and legs free from the tight rope. She fell forward immediately, her shaky hands barely catching her body before it hit the ground. Soon she and the Telmarine general were left alone in the vast room. Alvaro still moved about with agitation as he tried to push his way through the wood that enclosed him, but his struggles subsided as he watched Glozelle inch slowly towards his Queen.

Cara flinched away from Glozelle's hands as he reached down towards her. "If you wish, I can leave you here to die on the dirtied floor of your enemy's barn, or you can allow me to tend to your wounds and try to think of a way for you to escape," he explained in a tense voice. After a moment of silence he reached towards Cara again.

This time she did not attempt to move away.

BBBBBB

Lucy stumbled forward and out of the How. Walking towards her were Peter and Caspian, both wearing fowl expressions. Behind them was a pitiful number of Narnians, all looking as forlorn and lost as their two leaders. The young Queen moved her eyes quickly over the group, her mind instantly taking note that Edmund and Cara were missing.

"What happened?" she asked Peter softly, fear rising in her chest.

"Ask him," Peter responded immediately as he gestured towards Caspian.

"Peter," Susan interjected, her voice filled with fatigue and her shoulders slumped forward in defeat.

"Me?" Caspian asked as he looked to Peter disbelievingly. "You could have called it off; there was still time," he continued as Peter turned towards him and stopped walking.

"No there wasn't thanks to you," Peter shot back in an even tone. "If you'd kept to the plan, those soldiers—Cara," he choked out, "might still be alive." Lucy covered her mouth at Peter's words, and her heart restricted in her chest.

"And if you'd just stayed here—like _we_ both suggested—they definitely would be," Caspian replied, his voice rising with each word. Peter glared back at the Prince, his mind and heart refusing to admit that the deaths lay upon his shoulders.

"Cara trusted my judgment and followed my orders. If you had done the same Miraz would be dead and Narnia would not have lost her High Queen," Peter shouted back.

"This isn't even about the soldiers," Caspian said with a huff.

"Then what is it about?" Peter asked in defiance, his eyes drilling into the Prince.

"This is about her—her and your inability to admit that her blood is on _your_ hands— not the hands of any Telmarine," Caspian explained.

Peter's heart clenched at Caspian's words, the truth behind them drilling directly into his core. "Cara knew what this entailed," Peter finally responded.

"She knew exactly what this entailed," Caspian agreed. "That is precisely why she thought we should stay within the walls of the How," he quickly added.

"You called us, remember?" Peter responded as he stepped closer to Caspian.

"My first mistake," Caspian replied, his face filled with us much hate as Peter's.

"No," Peter said with a bitter laugh as he turned to walk away. "Your first mistake was thinking you could lead these people."

"Hey," Caspian shouted at Peter's back causing the High King to whip around. "I am not the one who abandoned Narnia." Peter's face grew red at Caspian's words, his heart beating with anguish.

"You invaded Narnia," he said as he walked back towards Caspian. "You have no more right to be here than Miraz does," Peter continued as Caspian pushed passed him and towards the How. "You. Him. Your father. Narnia is better off without the lot of you!"

Caspian stopped suddenly and pulled his sword from its sheath. Reacting instantly, Peter gripped Rhindon and met Caspian's blade in mid air as it swung towards him.

"Stop it!" Edmund's voice said from behind Peter. Lucy tore her gaze from Peter and Caspian and allowed it to land on the rumpled form of Edmund as he jumped down from the back of a griffon. Peter turned at the voice as well, hoping rising in his heart that Edmund had returned with news of Cara.

Lucy pushed passed Peter as she made her way quickly towards Edmund, her arms wrapping tightly around his torso once she reached him. "Hey," he said softly as he hugged his sister back. "Someone needs your help." Lucy pulled back instantly and watched with wide, worried eyes as Glenstorm lowered Trumpkin softly to the ground.

Working quickly, Lucy pulled her cordial from her belt and popped open the golden lid. After only one small drop, the eyes of the dwarf fluttered open. "What are ya'll standing around for," he asked as he looked into the faces of Edmund, Lucy, and Susan. "The Telmarines will be here soon enough."

Peter watched as Caspian turned on his heel and disappeared silently into the How with the figure of Nikabrik trailing behind him. With a sigh of frustration, Peter made his way quickly to Edmund. "Did you see anything," he asked softly. The young King did not need to speak, for the look in his eyes indicated that his last sweep over the castle was fruitless. Peter's body instantly felt cold. His eyes fell to the ground and his skin became clammy and pale. She was gone. It was over.

"Pete…" Edmund whispered as the High King moved away from the group and into the valley. Behind Peter Narnias began to step forth from the How, the sounds of their tears echoing in his mind. Soon sentences combining _High Queen_ and _dead_ reached him as well, the words making Cara's death frightening real.

Unable to control her tears any longer, Susan grabbed hold of Lucy and allowed a sob to escape her mouth. The young Queen followed suit, her small hands latching tightly onto her sister's dirtied gown.

"She just disappeared," Trumpkin said from beside Edmund as he watched the despair unravel around him.

"Sorry?" Edmund asked in confusion. Trumpkin let out a small sigh before turning towards the King.

"We were near the bridge controls when she just vanished. She wasn't actin right the entire night, her eyes all unfocused and her fighting sloppy. Then she just…poof," he explained as he gestured with his hands. Edmund watched silently as the dwarf left his side and made his way into the How with Lucy and Susan following close behind.

While running his hand through his unruly dark hair, Edmund turned to Peter, who now sat near the middle of the valley, his golden head gleaming just above the tall grass and swaying flowers. As Edmund watched his brother stare unseeingly into the distance, he could not help but fear Peter's will to fight died along with Cara.

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"Why are you doing this?" Cara asked softly as Glozelle tended to her aching shoulder. She was lying on her stomach with a small blanket under her and her back completely exposed. The general's hands were unwavering as they cleaned the blood from her back and tended to her wounds.

Cara's question was the first time the general ever heard her speak, and the innocence of her voice caused the general to freeze his actions and advert his eyes from her naked skin. After a long moment of silence, Glozelle returned to his work and spoke with a calm, warm voice. "I was given the order to murder Caspian the night the Lady Prunaprismia gave birth."

"Yet he fled before you managed to accomplish your given task," Cara added when silence once again enveloped the room.

"He would be dead…" Glozelle whispered, his voice trailing off at the end.

"I am atonement, then," Cara said softly to herself. Glozelle said nothing in response, his hands working expertly as he wrapped Cara's shoulder in a tight bandaged and began to clean the blood away from her calf and thigh. Although the arrow was now broken, fragments of wood remained deep in her thigh and trickles of blood oozed out the side. Glozelle crouched beside Cara, his upper body holding her still as his fingers worked their way into the wound.

Attempting to ignore the pain, Cara buried her head into the crevasses of her arms and bit down onto her exposed flesh. Waves of heat and nausea washed over her body creating beads of sweat to form upon her forehead and along her hair. Small tears trickled from her eyes as her body began to shake with pain. "Peter," she whispered, his image the last figure she was able to latch onto before her mind gave into the pain and darkness overtook her.

Cara awoke to Glozelle gazing down above her. "You must get up," he whispered and wrapped his arms tightly around her back. Cara winced as her shoulder moved forward under the general's fingers. "Your wounds are bandaged, but all exposed skin still wears dried blood and bruises. Miraz approaches and it must look as if I have interrogated you," he explained as he lifted Cara from the ground and back into the chair. Sweat continued to streak her face as her stomach constricted due to the unwavering haze that surrounded her.

Glozelle moved away from her just as Miraz entered the barn trailed by a small group of men. His eyes swept over Cara before landing on the quiet form of Alvaro, his back free of his golden armor. With a small smirk, he turned his dark eyes to Glozelle and nodded in appreciation.

"I hear you were as successful with the wench as you were with the horse," he said as he began to walk towards Cara, who was now bent over in pain and attempting not to vomit.

"Your Highness," Glozelle answered with a small bow. "Lords," he continued as he nodded to the other men in the room. "Their only stronghold is that mound of rock only a few miles from the river, which is far from defensible. Because of this, they plan to form another attack on the castle, this time with full numbers."

Miraz laughed at Glozelle's words and looked to Cara. "This is your plan, little Queen?" he asked before turning to the men behind him. "Let us surprise them this time. Let us trap them in their stone mound—a perfect tomb." The men looked to each other before returning their eyes to Miraz and nodding.

"We support your decision," a small, measly man in the front answered. "You're Majesty." Miraz smiled smugly and looked to Alvaro.

"The horse is yours," he said softly to Glozelle. "For your good work." Glozelle nodded in thanks, his eyes looking to Cara before quickly returning to the King.

"And the girl?" he asked as Miraz turned to leave, which caused him to stop and took intently at Cara.

"Kill her and return the body. She can announce our arrival."

_Good? Bad? Ugly? Let me know!_


	17. The Waking of the Queen

_Enjoy and PLEASE leave a review! They help me with my writing!_

Chapter 16

The Waking of the Queen

There was an image in Peter's mind that he could not erase. It was of Cara, her body stretched upon the ground and her eyes cast up at the endless sky. She was laughing, her slender lips curved in a wild smile and her arms grasped tightly around her body. It was the first time that Peter realized just how truly beautiful her laugh was. It was the first moment that Peter's heart no longer belonged to him. Then he had yet to realize it, but looking back now, it seemed blatantly obvious that his feelings for her went far beyond what they should.

And now she was gone.

Peter wanted to curse Caspian. Curse Aslan. Curse anyone but himself, but as he sat silently with a blade of grass pressed between his fingers and his eyes watching nothing, the weight of Cara's death began to fall heavily upon his shoulders. His chest restricted as he fought to contain the growing emotions that longed to spill out. The blade of grass was now nothing more than a ball of green goo, and his eyes were blurred by the tears that continued to swell. Not able to fight it any longer, the tears burst onto Peter's pale cheeks, and his body released the bubbling emotions with two small hiccups.

"Pete?" a voice said from behind him causing Peter to quickly rub the tears from his eyes and attempt to act as if nothing was wrong.

"Ye—yeah," he choked out as he turned his head to glance back. It was Edmund, his face sporting a look of concern and his hair rumbled from the wind. "I—um—I was just about to head back to the—the How," Peter continued as he tried to climb to his feet.

Edmund approached him quickly, his legs collapsing under him and his arms wrapping tightly around Peter's neck. Peter attempted to pull away from his brother's grasp, but Edmund refused to let go. Feeling the warmth of his brother around him, Peter ended his struggle and rested his head upon Edmund's shoulder. The tears began again, louder this time than they were before. Trying to control his own emotions, Edmund held Peter tighter and closed his eyes.

"I was so foolish," Peter whispered into Edmund's chest. "I could have saved her, Ed. I could have done something."

"You made the decision that you thought was right. There is nothing you could have done for her," Edmund replied, his voice cracking softly.

"It's not true," Peter answered with a sob. "I should have listened."

"Peter! Edmund!" Lucy's voice suddenly rang out. Edmund looked up to find his younger sister running frantically towards them. She stopped when she saw Peter's tear stained face pull away from Edmund's chest, her own tears beginning to fall again.

"It's Caspian," she finally continued. "He is about to do something horrible." Peter pushed away from Edmund and clamored to his feet, his hands wiping away the wetness on his face.

"Where is he?" he asked as he approached his sister, his hand finding the hilt of Rhindon.

"The Stone Table," she replied. "Hurry!" Both Kings immediately broke into a run and headed for the How. Panting heavily, Lucy followed as close to them as her small lungs would allow.

Peter entered the How at a full run; the growing panic in his chest taking the place of his sadness. A blue glow filtered into the halls surrounding the chamber of the Stone Table, and an icy chill wafted through the air. Peter could feel her presence long before he reached the room, his lungs growing stiff as they inhaled the cold of pure evil.

"Stop!" Peter yelled as he rounded the last corner and entered the vast room. The blue light was nearly blinding, but through squinted eyes Peter could make out the form of Jadis enclosed in ice, her hand and mind reaching out to the Prince before her.

Focused on reaching Caspian, Peter paid little attention to the hag that approached him until her feathered hands and sharp beak were gripping at his face. Peter cried out at the attack and swung Rhindon towards her. She blocked the blow quickly and kicked Peter with her scaled legs, her voice calling out in an eerie squawk.

Only feet from Peter, Edmund found himself fighting to avoid the bite of the werewolf that bore down upon him. The creature was quick, his strong legs kicking and slashing as his hands reached for Edmund's sword. Still trying to push the beast back, Edmund watched as Nikabrik grabbed Lucy and flung her to the ground. Attempting to reach his sister, Edmund pushed against the werewolf and forced him to topple over backwards, but his agility allowed him to climb back to his feet in mere seconds.

"Lucy!" Edmund tried to choke out, but the werewolf leapt forward and crushed him into the ground. Turning at the sound of her brother's voice, Lucy let out a small scream as her eyes caught sight of Nikabrik making his way towards her with a knife clutched in his fingers.

Without warning the black dwarf let out a stifled gasp and collapsed to the ground. Lucy looked up with wide eyes to find Trumpkin looking down at her. The two shared a quick nod before Lucy climbed to her feet and looked for something useful to do.

Edmund was breathing heavily in the corner, the dead carcass of the werewolf resting near him. Peter did not seem to be fairing as well, for he was on the ground with the hag on top of him, her beak snapping close to his face. Gathering all of his strength, Peter pulled his legs tight to his body and under the hag. She screamed as he launched her into the air, her body knocking into the stone wall and collapsing onto the ground. Moving quickly, Peter jumped to his feet and ran towards Caspian, who was now only a foot from the White Witch.

"Get away from him," Peter yelled as he knocked Caspian out of the way and to the ground. Jadis jumped back slightly, her white fingers disappearing behind her ice encasing once again.

"Peter, dear," she said in a silky voice. "I've missed you." Staring directly into the eyes of Jadis, Peter became mesmerized as her hand once again slipped through the ice and reached towards him. "Come," she whispered. "Just one drop of your blood will do. You know you can't do this alone."

Peter continued to stare, his sword slipping from his fingers and towards the ground. Controlled by something other than himself, Peter's mind began to believe the words that Jadis was saying. He couldn't do this alone. He did need help. Just one drop…

Jadis' eyes suddenly became wide, her fingers slipping back into the ice and her trance on Peter broken. Shaken by the change, Peter blinked his eyes and looked at the woman before him. Sticking directly through her stomach was a sword. The chamber echoed as the ice began to crack, thin splinters reaching outward until large gaps opened up. Then it burst. Chunks of ice spilled across the floor leaving the figure of Edmund standing alone, his sword sticking where Jadis' stomach once was.

Still dazed, Peter ignored the pieces of ice that covered his shoulders and hair, and looked at his brother with shocked eyes. Edmund slowly lowered his sword from the air and glanced around the chamber. Everyone that mattered seemed unscathed, but each sported a look of utter fatigue and desperation.

"Well done, Ed," Peter said softly as he placed his sword back into its sheath and kicked a piece of ice across the floor. Lucy walked hesitantly up to him, her eyes once again brimming with tears. Peter reached his hands out to her and allowed her small arms to wrap around his waist. With a heavy sigh he rested his chin upon her head and glanced to Caspian. The Prince seemed lost, his face burning with red embarrassment and guilt.

After a moment of silence, Peter kissed the top of Lucy's head and began to walk from the chamber. He stopped as he passed Caspian, his lips moving close to his ear. "We're even now," he whispered before moving beyond the Prince and out of sight.

Lucy went to follow him when Edmund's voice stopped her. "Lu," he called. "I think he needs to be alone."

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"General?"

"I need your help."

Glozelle did not need to say anymore, for the blanket in his hands gave a tremendous moan, and a pale, delicate hand slipped from beneath its covering. Catalina opened the door to her Queen's chambers and ushered Glozelle quickly inside. She was a handsome girl, with strong cheekbones and eyes flecked with yellow. Although she had waited upon Queen Prunaprismia for nearly ten years now, she was but twenty-five, and although she refused to admit it, her heart had always and would always belong to the man before her.

Using this knowledge, Glozelle had wrapped Cara up and brought her to the young woman instantly, for her love for him would bring Cara greater protection than anything else ever could.

"On the bed," Catalina said softly as she poured cool water into a bowl and grabbed a small rag. Doing as told, Glozelle hurried to the side of the intricate bed and placed Cara softly upon it. Cara rolled instantly, the blanket falling away and revealing her pale, sweaty face.

Catalina gasped and walked directly to Cara's side, her fingers grazing her forehead. "She is burning," she said softly and clasped Cara's hand tightly in hers. Glozelle nodded, his eyes looking rapidly around the room. "They are preparing for the King's coronation," she answered his silent question. "You need not to worry."

Glozelle nodded absentmindedly and returned his gaze to Cara. "I bandaged all of her wounds, but I fear the fever will overtake her," he explained, his hands fidgety before him.

"Who is she?" Catalina responded as she stroked the hair away from Cara's face. Glozelle frowned slightly at the question.

"For certain, I do not know," he replied. Catalina sent him an awkward glance before slowly pealing the tightly wrapped blanket from around Cara.

"Armor?" she whispered softly to herself as she caught sight of Cara's chainmail and leather corset. "Why is this chi—" her sentence was cut short as her eyes found the emblem embroidered across Cara's chest. "The Lion," she whispered and backed away quickly. "You bring a Narnian into my Queen's chambers?" she shouted as she pointed to Cara in fear.

Glozelle immediately wrapped his fingers tightly around her shoulders and forced her to look at him. "Lina," he said as she attempted to pull away. "Lina, she is a young woman that will die if we do not help her."

"She is a barbarian who assaulted our home and affronted our King," she replied harshly and jerked away from his grasp.

"A barbarian, Lina?" Glozelle asked as he approached her again. "Your King wishes to slay her and send her body to the Narnians as a prelude to our arrival. The very same King who murdered his own brother and ordered the same fate for his son. Now tell me who is barbarian here?"

Catalina slapped Glozelle hard across the cheek, the sound echoing throughout the room. "Do not speak so ill of those above you," she whispered harshly as looked around the room as if someone was watching.

"I will kill her then," Glozelle said softly after a moment of silence, "and I will strap her body to a horse and send it into their camp, for that is the order of my King." With his hand rubbing against his burning cheek, Glozelle pushed passed Catalina and began to cover Cara's body with the blanket.

"Wait," her soft voice called. Smiling inwardly, Glozelle backed away from Cara and allowed Catalina to step beside him. Glozelle watched quietly as she dipped a rag into the bowl of water beside her bed and placed it across Cara's burning head. Cara began to move in response, each twitch causing a moan to escape her lips.

"So what is your plan?" Catalina asked as she began to pull Cara's dirtied clothes off of her body. Glozelle turned away quickly and looked out the window with false interest.

"I do not know," he responded softly. Lina stopped her work and let out a small huff.

"I would expect as much from you," she replied. "You were never one to plan ahead." Glozelle allowed a small laugh to escape his lips, causing Catalina to smile in response. Soon silence spread across the room, the young girl working quietly and Glozelle gazing ahead, his mind fumbling to formulate a plan.

"You need to make her well enough to travel tomorrow," he said suddenly. Catalina looked up from her work before returning her eyes to Cara and placing a new rag across her forehead.

"I can make no promises," she answered.

"I will send her body, just as the King has ordered," Glozelle thought aloud, his mind ignoring Lina's earlier comment. "Except she shall not be dead."

BBBBBB

Cara awoke to dancing light. It flickered across the ceiling above her and created shadows upon the walls. With a deep whimper, Cara stretched her aching body and blinked her heavy eyelids. A mound of blankets covered her body, and her hair was wet and plastered to her face and neck. Despite the situation, Cara could not help but chuckle at truly horrible she probably looked.

"A dying girl awakes in good humor? Never before have I experienced such a thing," a voice said from beside her. Cara turned her head towards the sound, her face contorting as she did so.

"Dying girl?" she replied with a small smile. "Surly you do not mean me?"

"Perhaps not now, but a day ago I would have bet my savings on it," came the reply. Cara looked away from the figure and sighed deeply, her eyes finally taking in her surroundings.

"Where am I? Where is the General?" she asked with a raspy voice.

"You are now in the slave quarters, and General Glozelle is attending to his King," the voice answered as the figure poured some water into a small cup and lifted it to Cara lips. "Drink."

Cara did as she was told, most of the water dripping down the corner of her mouth and onto her chin. She coughed slightly as the cup was taken from her and a clean cloth wiped the spilt water away. "To whom do I repay such kindness?" she asked once her sputtering had subsided. The figure smiled down upon her and pulled the hair away from her face.

"I am Catalina, but the true kindness comes from Glozelle."

"Then I owe you both a great deal of thanks," Cara replied. Catalina nodded her head slightly before setting the rag upon a small table and returning her eyes to Cara. After a moment of silence she asked the one question that was burning inside of her.

"Why you?" she asked softly. "Why would he save you?" Cara laughed at the question, her weak voice turning into a wince as her shoulder shouted in protest.

"No one else to save, I suppose," Cara replied. "No one else foolish enough to get left behind," she added in a softer tone. Catalina watched as Cara's eyes clouded over slightly and her brow furled in thought.

"You will b—" Catalina's sentence was cut short when Glozelle burst through the door breathing heavily. Both women looked to him when he entered, Cara smiling softly and Catalina sporting a frown.

Glozelle nodded to Catalina before making his way to Cara's side. "How are you?" he asked as he held her hand in his. Moving away from the bed, Catalina's frown deepened.

"I think I shall live," Cara replied, "but only because of you." Glozelle smiled in response and cast his eyes towards Catalina, who was now pretending to be busy.

"You are brilliant, Lina," he said to her back. Catalina flushed slightly and continued to fiddle with the few things before her. Cara smiled as she watched the young woman, the situation becoming painfully obvious.

"You leave tonight," Glozelle said as he turned back to Cara. "Miraz is now truly our King, and his troops are already heading towards the bridge at Beruna. Tonight he will ride as well, and his wish is for you to join him." Catalina turned around suddenly and looked to Glozelle with wide eyes.

"Surely he thinks her dead?" she said quickly. Glozelle sat heavily upon Cara's bed and rubbed his eyes rigorously.

"He knows she still lives, and instead of becoming angered he rejoiced in the idea of a new plan," he explained with a deep sigh.

"What is this plan?" Cara asked as she tried inch her body onto the wall behind her.

"A taunting, I suppose," he said to himself before turning to look fully at Cara. "He wishes to kill you before your people—before Caspian." Cara's shoulders slouched forward and her brow furrowed. This truly complicated things.

"What is your plan?" she asked finally. Glozelle smiled slightly and rose from the bed. Cara and Catalina watched as he pulled a metal poker from the fire place and examined it closely.

"Tonight I shall escort you to the King," he started softly. "Unexpectedly, you are far healthier than we anticipated, and after slaying the guards who accompany you and knocking out the General who found you, you will make your way to the stable, steal back your horse, and flee the castle."

"I have a very big night ahead of me it seems," Cara replied. Catalina stared openmouthed at Glozelle before stepping towards him and frowning.

"She is _not_ healthy enough for all that," she said with an agitated voice. "She will be caught and so shall we."

"It is a risk, but not for us—for her," Glozelle responded as he looked to Cara. The High Queen looked down at her hands, her thoughts swaying to Peter. If her end was nearing, she wished for it to be beside him, not surrounded by strangers in a dark place. With renewed determination Cara returned her eyes to Glozelle.

"I shall return to my people and _my_ King—and I shall be alive."

BBBBBB

Cara could see a small sliver of the sky from the cell that Glozelle and taken her to. The stars were bright, their light open and free from any covering. Staring up at the very same sky, across the Shuddering Wood and the River of Beruna, was Peter. Cara knew that Peter was looking upon the same sky as her, and even though she was sitting upon a cold, stone ground surrounded by darkness, she felt warmth wash over her that renewed a portion of her strength.

Taking her eyes away from one bright star, Cara watched quietly as two guards opened the door to her cell and pulled her from the ground. Glozelle soon followed, his eyes masked by a look of hate that he forced himself to wear. Everything seemed to be going as planned. The two guards had no idea that their General wore a mask of deceit, and that the weak girl before them new every step that they were about to take.

"Get up," Glozelle said harshly as he pulled Cara's arms away from the guards and forced her to her feet. She winced loudly, her acting nearly as good as his. "Narnian swine," he whispered as he pushed her from the cell and into the light of a distant torch. Both guards laughed at her disheveled figure, each making remarks about the beauty of their woman compared to her. Cara smiled to herself at the comments, for very soon both men would receive their comeuppance.

Glozelle kept a tight grip on Cara as he walked her down halls and further away from the tiny cell that she had occupied for the past few hours. Although her legs throbbed with each step and her shoulder was weak from ripped muscle, the thought of returning to the How gave Cara a bust of adrenaline that wrapped its way around her body and gave her the strength she would need to accomplish her escape.

"There is a small dagger only inches from your hand," Glozelle whispered into Cara's ear, his mouth barely showing any movement. "When we round this corner, pull it into your grasp and kill the guard behind you. I shall take the one that trails me." Cara did nothing to show her acknowledgement of his plan for fear that the two men behind them would take notice.

With a quickly beating heart, Cara counted the seconds until they reached the corner, her fingers itching to grab the dagger. "One," Glozelle said softly.

"Two," Cara counted in her head.

"Three!" they said in unison, Cara grabbed the dagger as Glozelle turned away from her quickly. Both guards were dead before any sound escaped their lips. Still throbbing with new strength, Cara reached forward and pulled the dagger from the guard's chest. Taking his sword from its sheath, Glozelle turned to Cara and offered it to her.

"Hit hard," he said as Cara's small hand wrapped its away around the hilt. "When I wake I will have to inform him of your escape. You only have as much time as your power allows." Cara nodded at his words and pushed the dagger into her belt.

"May Aslan be with you," she whispered to Glozelle before pulling her arm back and smacking the hilt across the bottom of Glozelle's neck. He crumbled to the ground instantly, a small line of blood reaching his shirt. Throwing his sword down beside him, Cara rushed from the hall and into a darkened corridor. Although Glozelle had informed her of the quickest way to the stables, trying to recall every turn was far more difficult than she had first anticipated.

After gathering her thoughts, Cara made her way down another corridor and out into the cool night air. She smiled softly as her eyes caught sight of the stars above her, but the moment was broken when group of men moved in the distance. Returning to the shadows, Cara attempted to avoid being seen as she worked her way closer to the stables.

She passed the men with little issue, for all were too busy arguing about the battle to notice a petite woman ease her way beside them. With ten minutes of running and hiding behind her, Cara found her way into the stable and to Alvaro. The horse nickered softly when his saw her, his muzzle nibbling along her neck. Finding her leg to weak to jump upon his back, Cara led the horse to a small block and proceeded to climb up his back.

"Hey!" a gruff voice shouted causing Cara to stop mid-climb and fumble back onto the block below her. "What do you think yo—" The man's question was cut short when an array of bells began to sound around the castle. Ignoring the pain in her leg, Cara pushed herself onto the back of Alvaro and ushered him into a gallop.

Seeming to enjoy the bit of adventure, Alvaro busted through the barn doors and out onto the stone road. His feet clanked along the ground as he galloped passed guards and towards the front of the castle. Cara prayed silently that the gate and bridge would still be down, but as the minutes swept by her heart began to race with fear.

Turning a corner quickly, Alvaro's feet slid on the smooth stone causing Cara to fall painfully onto her shoulder. Wincing, she pushed herself from his neck and attempted to regain balance, but the stumble allowed two Telmarine guards to reach her side. Moving quickly, Alvaro regained his foot and pushed passed the men, one of them slicing his shoulder with the tip of his sword. Cara grimaced as blood began to seep down Alvaro's leg.

As the duo weaved between shopping stands and late night stragglers, Telmarine soldiers began to filter into the streets. On foot the men were no challenge for the horse, but upon horse back they offered a threat. Now trialing her were six guards, their horse's hooves pounding into the ground as they followed them. Trying to climb farther ahead, Alvaro flattened his ears and pushed himself forward even harder. Soon the front courtyard opened up before them, Cara's eyes catching sight of the open gate and bridge. She could do this. She could make it.

Yards before they reached the gate a line of men formed before them. Each had his sword pointed directly as Alvaro's unguarded chest. The horse reared in protest, his hind legs nearly slipping again on the stone. Too close to give up, Cara pulled the small dagger from her belt and ran in through the neck of the closest Telmarine. As the man began to slump forward, she grabbed hold of his sword and pushed Alvaro back towards the gate.

The soldiers stood strong as Cara attempted to ram them, and falling into line behind her were the soldiers upon horse back. Alvaro wheeled around in a tight circle as Cara tried to find an opening for escape. As their circle of safety began to grow smaller, the gate began its slow crawl downward. It was nearly over. Cara's possibility of escape decreased with each turn of the gate control.

"Bring her to me!" a voice shouted from above her. Cara turned quickly to see the figure of Miraz appear upon the balcony overlooking the courtyard. Instantly the men collapsed into her, their swords nearly cutting Alvaro's flesh. Deciding that she would never be taken, Cara turned to Miraz.

"I am Cara Noor," she shouted, "true High Queen of Narnia by the appointment of Aslan. If I have the possibility of dying here—now—before all of you, than I shall take that offer, for I rather have my blood spilt upon this ground, where the blood of other Narnians rests, than be slain before my people like a Telmarine," she continued as Alvaro began to circle again. "You must kill me," Cara explained as she pointed the sword in her hand towards Miraz, "for I refuse to be a prisoner."

Without warning, Cara launched her sword into the chest of a random soldier, the quickness of her movement causing commotion to breakout between the Telmarines. Using the confusion, Cara kicked Alvaro forward and towards the gait. This time the horse ignored the swords that were pointed towards him, his shear mass pushing men and weapons to the ground.

"Get them! Kill them both!" Miraz yelled in the background, his voice quaking with anger.

Cara continued to kick and shove as Alvaro rammed his way closer to the gate. With one great lunge, Cara and Alvaro passed under the gate and over the bridge, the sounds of Alvaro's hooves becoming muffled as they reached dirt. Behind them Telmarine soldiers attempted to follow, but those on foot could not keep up, and those on horse could no longer squeeze passed.

Both Cara and Alvaro were covered in slashes from the swords, but neither seemed deterred by the stinging pain. They were free. Looking up into the vast sky, Cara flung her arms back and laughed.

Showing no hesitation, Alvaro crashed into the forest and disappeared amongst the thick trees. He weaved skillfully between the trunks and branches, his way illuminated by the power of the stars that glowed within him. Soon horse and rider became shrouded by the darkness, their image and footfalls covered by sheer distance. Dwindling behind them was the castle of Miraz, its King looking down from his balcony with disgust. Glozelle stood behind him with a blood covered welt rising from his neck.

Fueled by anger, Miraz seized the guard beside him and threw him from the balcony, his screams of fear mixing with the yell of hate that escaped Miraz's lips.

"I want her dead," he shouted as he turned to Glozelle and grabbed him tightly by the neck. "I want them all dead."

BBBBB

It was early in the morning by the time Cara and Alvaro reached the valley that stood at the head of the How. With all adrenaline gone from her body, every piece of Cara seemed to ache. Weak from fatigue, she ushered Alvaro out of the woods and into the swaying grass of the valley.

Edmund was the first to spot her, his eyes squinting into the dark and his heart racing with the possibility of an attack, but something did not feel right. There was something about the figure that was all too familiar.

"What is that?" Susan asked from beside him as she made to grab her bow.

"Wait," Edmund responded, his hand reaching to stop her. Both watched with bated breath as the figure grew closer and closer, each step revealing more detail. Suddenly Edmund's eyes became wide.

"Get Peter."

_So here is the deal. You leave me a review, I not only update by Monday, BUT I finally add a little more fluff to the story, which I know you all loved because the reviews from the first kiss were great. That's my deal. Take it or leave. :)_


	18. The Consequences of Falling

_I do apologize for having to push this chapter back until today (I have had a family member in the hospital), but now it is complete and ready for everyone's viewing pleasure! Because of all the happenings over the week, I feel that this chapter is sub par, so be warned! We are going to take a small break from all the excitement and let a little emotion poor out of everyone. Next chapter begins the battle funness. Oh joy! _

_I want to give a special thanks to all of you that left reviews over the passed week. I know that I have not responded to each one as I usually do, but your thoughts and excitement for this chapter helped me push through a crappy week. You are all AMAZING!!_

Chapter 17

The Consequences of Falling

The How was bathed in glowing light as the sun's rays reached above the horizon and onto the back of the solid stone stronghold. Susan still stood beside Edmund with her bow clasped tightly in her long fingers and her face agape with disbelief. Noticing the figure approaching, others began to crawl from the crevices of the How and look across the valley with blank faces and beating hearts.

"What is everyo—" Peter said with confusion as he came to stand beside his siblings, his words drifting into silence as his eyes caught sight of the moving ghost.

Taking her gaze away from Cara, Susan turned to Peter and squeezed his hand tightly in hers. Peter's heart clenched at the vision before him while an unbelieving sadness washed over his features. Cara and Alvaro were now glowing in the morning light of the sun, each seeming to be more divine than real.

Lucy was the first to react, her childish innocence spilling forth as she leapt from the How and ran across the valley. "Cara," her voice sang, its joy reaching Peter's ears and causing a swell of emotions to build in his throat.

Seeing Lucy moving towards her, Cara slid from Alvaro's back and into the thick grass below. Her body winced at the strain, but the joy in her heart overcame the pain as she stepped closer to Lucy's smiling form. Falling to her knees, Cara opened her arms wide for Lucy and rejoiced when she crashed into them, her weight causing both to crumble backwards onto the soft ground.

Without warning, Susan's fingers released her bow from their grasp as her feet carried her forward. She stumbled and laughed as she ran down the rocky side of the How and along the path that Lucy had created.

"Susan," Cara whispered as the gentle Queen fell onto the ground beside Lucy. With tears cascading down her beautiful, pale cheeks Susan pulled Cara tightly to her and released a shaky laugh.

"We thought you were dead," she whispered into Cara's dirtied hair.

"I almost was," Cara replied as she closed her eyes and relished in the feel of Susan and Lucy's warmth.

Still watching from the top of the How, Edmund allowed a smile to form upon his face as he slid down the hill and to the rocky ground below. All forms of Narnians were moving around him, their shock turning to shouts of joy and their feet carrying them quickly to their reborn Queen.

Running through the growing crowd Edmund bumped harshly into Caspian, both laughing wholeheartedly as they nearly tumbled to the ground. Seeing the boys rapidly approaching, Cara climbed to her shaky feet and moved quickly towards them. Reaching her first, Caspian laughed as he lifted Cara from the ground and spun her into the air.

"Ed!" Cara giggled as she pulled away from Caspian's grasp and leapt into the young King's arms.

"Welcome home," he laughed, his voice muffled by Cara's shoulder. More hugs came as Narnians continued to crowd around Cara and Alvaro, all marveling at the beauty and hope that the rising sun and brought forward.

Slowly the crowd began to part, which caused Cara to look beyond the throng of creatures. Standing alone at the head of the How was Peter. His arms were limp at his side and his face was filled with sadness and disbelief. Suddenly captivated, Cara stepped forward, her dress trailing in the wet grass behind her. Watching her move, Peter let out a shaky breath as his hand moved closely to his mouth.

Her eyes brimming with tears, Cara stopped only feet from Peter and took in his ragged form. "Peter," she whispered. Allowing the sound of her voice to wash over him, Peter closed his eyes and breathed deeply. Seeing the pain before her, Cara released a shaky breath and reached her bloodied fingers forward.

"Are you real?" Peter whispered as his eyes opened. Unable to contain herself any longer, Cara's hand reached towards Peter's face, her fingers tracing the contours of his jaw and mouth. He responded instantly, his strong arms pulling her forward. Cara collapsed into him as his fingers wrapped around her back and became lost in her tangled hair. Feeling her body solid against him, Peter released a sputtered sob and buried his head into her neck.

Weak from fatigue and shaking with joy, both slowly collapsed to the ground. Peter pulled Cara forward and kissed the dirtied skin beneath his mouth. "Cara," he breathed as he ran his lips over her cheeks and forehead. With groping fingers, Cara's eyes finally released the tears that were fighting to escape. All of her fear and pain spilled forth as Peter continued to cover her body with warmth.

"You were dead," he whispered with a trembling voice as he cupped Cara's face in his hands and looked into her tear filled eyes. "I thought you were dead." Despite her tears, Cara released a small laugh and ran her hands along Peter's chest.

"You kept me alive," she responded as her eyes memorized every aspect of his face. Lowering his quivering lips to hers, Peter allowed every ounce of emotion to spill from him and into Cara. He did not care who saw. He did not care what Susan would say. All that matter was the woman in his arms and the feel of her body pressed tightly against his.

Cara's wet cheeks rubbed across Peter's as he deepened the kiss and pulled her completely onto his lap. Although his touch was gentle, Cara's body screamed in agony under the contact. Gasping, she pulled away slightly and stiffened her body. Peter watched her with sad eyes, his gaze finally taking in the beaten girl before him. "I'm sorry," he whispered against her lips. "I did this to you."

"No," Cara responded as she relaxed against his body and laid her forehead against his. "You brought me to life," she continued with a smile. "Remember?" With a shaky laugh, Peter released Cara from his grasp and rubbed his thumb softly along her cheek, each touch leaving a trail of fresh blood.

Peter's eyes narrowed as he pulled his fingers away from Cara's face and glanced down. Both hands were smeared with deep red, his pale skin stained. "You're bleeding," he breathed as he climbed to his knees and turned Cara around. She winced at the pressure and fell slightly forward, a portion of her dress riding up and exposing her leg.

"Lucy!" Peter suddenly shouted, fear rising in his chest at the sight of Cara's expensive wounds.

"I'm alright," Cara responded as she tried to cover the gashes on her legs.

"Alright?" Peter yelled angrily. "Your back is soaked in blood, Cara. Look at my hands," he continued as he forced her to look at his red stained skin. Cara's face contorted as another wave of tears cascaded down her cheeks.

"I'm sorry," she said softly and pulled completely out of Peter's grasp. "It's all my fault. Everything happened because of me." Peter's face fell as Cara attempted to crawl away from him, her shoulder giving out under the pressure and her body collapsing forward.

Pushing through the crowd, Lucy ran quickly to Peter's side, her eyes noticing that Peter's hands were not the only ones coated in Cara's blood. The others followed close behind, each finding traces of the red liquid on their clothes and fingers.

Cara continued to cry as Peter wrapped his arm softly around her waist and pulled her back towards him. Once Cara was situated back in his arms, Lucy handed Peter her cordial and watched as he brought it closely to Cara's lips.

"Look at me," Peter ordered as Cara latched on to his tunic and buried her head into the crevice of his arm. With swollen eyes, Cara slowly turned her head and looked to her High King. "I'm not losing you again," he whispered as small tears continued to roll down Cara's cheeks.

"You don't need me to win this war," she replied, her eyes leaving Peter's.

"I'm not talking about the war," he answered as his free hand moved her eyes back to his. "Drink." Keeping her eyes steady with Peter's, Cara took the cordial from his hand and brought it to her lips. As a single drop fell from the diamond rim and hit her moist tongue, Cara felt the burning instantly leave every part of her body; the only sensation that remained was the cool blood upon her back and the warmth of Peter's breath.

Lucy stepped forward and carefully pulled her cordial from Cara's grasp, while Susan kneeled beside her and ran her fingers over Cara's forehead. "Come," she said softly. Wiping the tears from her eyes, Cara allowed Peter to help her to her feet, his lips placing a soft kiss upon her forehead.

"Go with Susan," he whispered into her hair as Susan wrapped an arm around Cara's waist and ushered her into the How. Peter watched her go, his hands and tunic now coated in blood and his shoulders slumped forward.

"Do you think she will be alright?" Edmund asked as he came to stand beside Peter. "I mean, physically she is fine, but mentally—who knows what they did to her."

"I don't know," Peter responded, his eyes glancing down at the blood on his hands. For a brief moment he couldn't help but think the image fitting.

BBBBBB

"Do you think it will help him the way it helps us?" Lucy asked Caspian as she allowed a drop of her treasured liquid to fall into a small bucket of water.

It was only an hour after Cara's arrival, and finding herself useless elsewhere, Lucy had trailed Caspian as he cleaned Alvaro's wounds and tended to the other horses in the stable. Both were in agreement that the gash along Alvaro's shoulder was beyond simple rest and cleaning, which is precisely why both were attempting to get a drop of healing potion into his massive body.

"For the sake of the horse, I certainly hope so," Caspian replied as he lifted the bucket towards Alvaro's muzzle. After eyeing the liquid with caution, Alvaro dipped his tongue in for a quick taste before lowering his lips into the precious water. Lucy and Caspian watched with bated breath as the horse finished off the water in a few large gulps.

"Look!" Lucy gasped. "It's working." Although Lucy had healed numerous gashes, she could not recall actually ever witnessing a wound's decline and disappearance, making her moment with Alvaro exceedingly special.

"Yet again you save another brave soul," Caspian replied as he smiled fondly at the young Queen.

"I wonder what happened to her," Lucy offhandedly commented as the duo offered Alvaro some hay and began to watch him quietly eat. Caspian remained silent for quite some time, his mind piecing together images of what Cara could have possibly gone through.

"Miraz is an evil man," he replied softly. "I cannot imagine that her life was easily spared." Turning her eyes from Alvaro, Lucy observed Caspian as his face displayed an array of emotions. She saw hate and sadness, worry and regret, but most blatantly she saw fear. A fear that twisted its way through the heart of each and every one of them and ate away at the hope and love that they all shared.

As Lucy continued to watch Caspian's face, her mind trailed back to the way Cara and Peter had held each other earlier that day, and to the way Edmund and Susan had rejoiced in returning to their beloved home. With the ones she loved moving through her mind, Lucy realized that something had to be done, and it was a something that only she had the heart and mind to do.

"Is something wrong?" Caspian questioned as Lucy turned quickly and fled from the stables.

"No," she shouted as she waved her hand in the air. "I—uh—I just remember something I need to mention to Susan."

Filled with the knowledge that she could truly help, Lucy ran through the corridors of the How and towards Cara's private chambers. After muttering _sorry_ more than once and nearly knocking over a stack of shields, Lucy finally burst through the door to Cara's chambers and stumbled inside.

Both Cara and Susan turned instantly, their eyes wide with shock at the intrusion. "Lucy?" Susan questioned as she held a blanket out for Cara to crawl into. "What in Aslan's name is wrong with you?"

"I must do something, Susan," the young Queen replied as she moved further into the dimly lit room. Cara's torn and bloodied gown was now nothing more than a heap upon the stone ground, while her hair and body were wet from her first bath in nearly three days.

"The only thing you _must_ do i—" Susan exclaimed before Cara stepped out of the bath and interjected.

"What must you do?" Cara questioned, her hands working quickly to dry the water from her body. Happy to have some sort of support, Lucy ignored the look on Susan's face and stepped closer to her High Queen.

"I must find Aslan," she replied with determination. Cara sighed as she pulled a simple gown from her closet and tossed her towel onto the ground, her long wet hair soaking the back of the dress instantly. "If I can have use of a horse I can leave the How and search him out in the forest," she continued valiantly. Cara stopped attempting to do up her dress and eyed the young Queen intently, while Susan stood with a look of utter disgust.

'That is ridiculous, Lucy. Really," Susan replied causing Lucy's excitement to fall from her face.

"Cara?" she asked desperately. Biting her bottom lip, Cara attempted to conjure up a reason why Lucy should not go, but as images of Miraz and his large army entered her mind, she quickly concluded that Lucy truly was right.

"I agree with Lucy," Cara finally responded, her answer causing Susan to step forward with a gaping mouth, while Lucy's face erupted into a wide smile.

"Peter will never consent," Susan interjected as Cara returned the towel to her hair and attempted to mop up the excess water.

"Peter won't have a choice," Cara replied. "The Telmarine army is crossing the Bridge of Beruna as we speak. Our troops are no match for what Miraz brings." Susan went to respond when Cara placed her finger softly across her lips. "Without Aslan we will not prevail. No words you can say will argue against that."

Susan moved away from Cara's finger and sat heavily upon the side of the bath. After a moments silence, she returned to her feet and looked defiantly at Cara. "Then I shall go with her," she said as her eyes moved quickly between Cara and Lucy.

"No," Cara responded. "We both will."

"Fine," Susan replied, "but _you_ can tell Peter."

BBBBB

When Cara found Peter he was rubbing a wet rag vigorously over his fingers. A bucket sat beside him, its contents splashed over the side and along the floor. The chamber was dark save for one torch directly above Peter and a small crack in the stone that allowed a stream of sunlight to leak through.

With her hair still damp and clinging to the back of her dress, Cara made her way over to Peter and kneeled before him. Although her purpose in locating the High King was to discuss Lucy's idea, the look on his face indicated that now truly was not the time. With a look of sadness Cara rested her fingers softly on Peter's thigh and attempted to look into his eyes, but he chose to ignore her presence and continue the battle he was raging upon his hands.

"I can't get it off," Peter finally whispered. Cara looked down instantly, her eyes taking in the sight of pale red across Peter fingers.

"Peter," she said softly as she placed her palm around his and forced his washing to end. Averting his gaze, he moved quickly away from her and climbed to his feet. With a sigh, Cara took his place on the ground and began to fiddle with the rag he had left behind.

"I keep on playing these scenarios in my head of what they did to you. Each one worse than the first. Each one leaving an imprint in my mind," Peter said as he leaned against the wall opposite from Cara, his forehead knocking against the cold stone.

Realizing that Peter needed to know the truth concerning her capture, Cara began to think of a way to retell the story while still allowing some dignity to remain intact. "The horse," she started softly before clearing her throat and beginning again. "The horse that carried me here is Alvaro." Peter turned from the stone quickly and looked to Cara, confusion sketched across his features.

"I abandoned Trumpkin," she continued, "and you." Peter's eyes narrowed as he watched Cara lean her head against the wall behind her and stare up at the dancing flames. "The arrows are from the front courtyard. I would have died along with our troops if Alvaro had not fought for my life, and if a Telmarine by the name of Glozelle had not found my body."

"And what of the gashes along your legs?" Peter replied as he walked slowly towards Cara.

"Trying to escape," she whispered after a few moments of silence. Peter kneeled before Cara and pulled the rag from her fingers.

"Why would a Telmarine save your life?" he questioned. Turning her dark eyes towards Peter, Cara released a sigh and pursed her lips.

"Penitence," she replied causing Peter's scowl of confusion to deepen. "He was ordered to kill Caspian the night he escaped." As realization washed over Peter's features, he sat down beside Cara and intertwined his fingers with hers.

"I have ne—" Peter began but was cut off by the sound of Edmund's voice. Both he and Cara turned to see the young King dazed with worry and breathing heavily.

"You need to see this."

BBBBB

It was passed mid-day when the full Telmarine army arrived. The rock walls of the How reverberated with each foot fall and the shouted taunts of the soldiers echoed across the valley. Peter stood with a renewed look of determination and hate, his heart infuriated after Cara's retelling of her story. Thousands of men lined the trees, their armor glinting in the sun and their heavy feet trampling the swaying grass of the valley. Cara's fingers immediately found Peter's while Susan wrapped a tight arm around Lucy's waste.

Soon the sound of crashing trees mixed with the thunderous footfalls, and out of the shadows of the high forest came catapults pulled by teams of horses, their legs and bodies straining under the immense weight and soft ground.

"There he is," Cara whispered from beside Peter. As if her soft words were an introduction, the figure of Miraz became apparent as he stepped beyond his troops and looked towards the How. His white steed glinted with blinding light as he entered the sun. "He wears Alvaro's armor," Cara explained in a stony voice, her free hand recoiling at her side.

Clenching his jaw tightly at the sight of the newly crowned King, Peter turned his eyes away from the valley and moved towards the How. "Each of you to the Stone Table," he called over his back before disappearing completely.

BBBBB

"If we are able to destroy the tunnels of the How, we can cause the ground to crumble from beneath them," Peter explained as he, Edmund, and Caspian studied an old map of the How's underground. Caspian glanced to the young King beside him with worried eyes, while Edmund sighed deeply and scratched his chin. Feeling the tension, Peter took his eyes off the map and looked at the boys before him.

"What other choice do we have?" he asked in an exasperated voice. After casting a quick glance to Cara and Susan, who were arguing quietly in the corner, Caspian cleared his throat and looked down at the map.

"That would ruin the How," he responded after a few minutes of silence. "Our only sanctuary would be destroyed."

"We won't need a sanctuary if we are all dead," Peter replied, his eyes also moving towards the Queens in the corner. "What are you two going on about?" he asked. Cara began to step forward when Susan's hand shot out and grabbed her. After a few more whispered words, both women stepped towards their Kings and look purposefully at Peter. Feeling the weight of their stare, Peter stood up straighter and crossed his arms in front of his chest.

"What are you two planning?" he asked pointedly. Susan looked to Cara before stepping closer to Peter and squaring her shoulders.

"Logically," she began slowly, "our only hope is to find Aslan."

"I would feel far more comfortable if Aslan was here as well, but we have to fend for ourselves now," Peter answered as he leaned forward and rested his knuckles on the table before him.

"Lucy can find him," Susan continued, the confidence in her voice rising with each word. "All we have to do is get her into the outskirts of the How and the open wood."

"All we have to do?" Edmund asked incredulously.

"Yes, and once we have accomplished that she will be able to find him and bring him here to aid us. She has already seen him, Peter," she continued passionately as she grabbed Peter's shoulder.

"How do you plan to do this?" he questioned softly. Stepping back, Susan looked to Cara before returning her eyes to Peter.

"We will get her passed the Telmarines," she replied boldly. Peter and Edmund's eyes widened in response, each King looking at the girls in disbelief.

"Absolutely not," Peter answered as he walked towards Susan and Cara. "You have just returned from the dead," he continued as he pointed to Cara, "and I refuse to allow you the same opportunity," he said with his eyes ending on Susan.

"We are not asking for your approval, Peter," Susan replied as she pushed passed him and closer to the map of the How. The High King glanced to Cara for help, but the look on her face indicated that she stood completely beside Susan.

"This was your idea, wasn't it?" he asked Cara with anger trickling into his words.

"No," Cara responded smugly. "It was Lucy's." The look on Peter's face was nearly comical as he moved towards Cara as if he wished to strangle her.

"You are all staying here," he finally squeezed out as Cara backed away from him.

"No, we aren't," Cara responded as her face went cold and her eyes narrowed.

"Do you recall telling me that your entire mess was caused by _you_ not following _my_ orders," Peter shouted in return causing Cara's face to flush with anger.

"Peter!" Caspian suddenly interjected as he moved between them. "I think the girls are right, and I do believe that they can break passed the Telmarine barricade," he continued softly as Peter's eyes stared into his. Breathing deeply, Peter turned away from everyone and attempted to cool his anger. Behind him, both Cara and Susan smiled to Caspian in thanks, while Edmund rubbed his fingers through his hair and rolled his eyes.

"Fine," Peter finally replied, his back still turned to everyone, "but you will leave tonight, under the cover of darkness, and you will do it my way." Cara looked quickly to Susan, their eyes connecting in a meaningful glance.

"Deal," they replied in unison.

BBBBB

"Cakes and kettledrums! That's your next big plan? Sending a little girl into the darkest parts of the forest alone?" Trumpkin asked nearly an hour after the royals had formed their finals plans. The chamber of the Stone Table was now packed with Narnians, each anxious to hear the plans of their High King.

"It's our only hope," Peter responded as his eyes moved quickly to Lucy. The young Queen smiled in return.

"And she won't be alone," Susan added.

"Haven't enough of us died already?" Trumpkin asked with wide, sad eyes. Silence seemed to spread across the wide room, each person and creature feeling sadness wash over them at the remembrance of all they had lost already.

Stepping forward, Trufflehunter cleaned his throat and turned to Trumpkin. "Nikabrik was my friend too, but he lost hope. Queen Lucy hasn't, and neither have I." Cara smiled softly at his words as her hands moved to Lucy's shoulders.

"For Aslan!" Reepicheep shouted in excitement as he pulled his sword from its sheath and waved it high in the air. Brimming with hope, the Bulgy Bear's voice spilled forth as he pushed his paws high in the air and repeated Reepicheep's words. Renewed optimism filled the hearts of all in the room at his words, save for Trumpkin, who looked to Lucy with worry.

"I'm going with you," he said softly.

"No," Lucy replied as she looked to Cara and Susan, "you are needed here, and I have plenty of protection."

"We have to hold them off until the girls return with Aslan," Peter explained after overhearing Trumpkin's statement.

"If I may," Caspian interjected as he stepped forward from the shadows. Every eye in the room went to the Prince as he moved to stand beside Peter. With a nod of approval, Peter allowed Caspian to continue with his plan.

"Miraz may be a tyrant and a murderer," he began quietly before raising his voice and glancing around the room, "but as a King, he is subject to the traditions and expectations of his people, and there is one in particular that might buy us some time." As realization filled Cara's mind, she moved away from Lucy and closer to Peter, her fingers latching quickly to his. Peter glanced down at the contact, his face slightly worried.

"What are you indicating," Peter asked softly as he turned his eyes away from Cara and to Caspian.

"A duel," Cara replied. Looking to the High Queen, Caspian's head nodded in agreement.

"Between Miraz and I," Peter said as he pulled away from Cara and ran his fingers through his hair.

"Peter, you don't have to do it," Cara whispered as she moved towards Peter and wrapped her fingers around his forearms.

"Peter, it will buy Lucy an entire morning to find Aslan. If you win, then the King will be dead and his army will be easily defeated," Caspian explained before Cara quickly interjected.

"And what happens if Peter loses?" Cara shouted as she shot Caspian a deadly look.

"Then we will pray that Lucy can locate Aslan before the duel ends," Caspian replied softly.

"You toy easily with someone else's life," Cara said angrily as she moved away from Peter, his hand grasping tightly to hers before she made it out of his reach. After pulling her back quickly, he wrapped his arms tightly around her torso and moved his lips close to her ear.

"I will do my duty as High King," he whispered softly. Jerking from his grasp, Cara looked at him sadly before pushing passed Caspian and out of the room.

"Edmund," Peter said once Cara was far from sight, "prepare a piece of parchment. I shall send Miraz a challenge that he cannot refuse."

BBBBBB

Cara never expected to find her body so soon reacquainted with armor, but as she slid new daggers into her boots and belt, she realized that she felt most comfortable in such clothes. After a deep stretch of her shoulders, Cara pushed a sword into the sheath dangling from her side and made her way towards the stables.

Alvaro called to her softly, his body looking small without the armor that it usually carried. "Hello, old friend," she whispered into his neck as her fingers tangled themselves in his mane.

"The sun is near setting," Susan's voice said suddenly from behind Cara, the sound causing her to startle. "Sorry," the gentle Queen replied as Cara turned her head and let out a shaky sigh.

"Is Lucy prepared?" Cara questioned as she ushered Alvaro from his stall and into the aisle of the barn.

"We both are," Susan answered with a small nod, "we are simply awaiting Peter's final word." As if on cue, Peter entered the stable speaking quietly with Caspian while Trumpkin and Lucy trailed slowly behind. Moving away from Peter, Caspian went to his horse's stall and pulled her forward.

"Susan shall ride with Lucy," Peter explained as Caspian led the mare towards the small group. After hugging Trumpkin tightly, Lucy walked through the group and allowed Caspian to lift her light body onto the horse's back. Susan quickly followed, her body situating itself in front of Lucy as Caspian's hands left her torso.

Cara went to mount when Peter's arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her back to the ground. "Caspian, take Susan and Lucy to the back exit. Trumpkin, go and inform Edmund that the girls have made their way into the forest," he said as Cara pulled away from him and glared. Nodding, both dwarf and boy did as ordered and disappeared from sight.

"Reepicheep's scouts found Telmarines on every side of the How. You will have to push passed them and into deeper forest," Peter said to Cara as he forced her to look at him. "I have sent numerous soldiers into the woods to aid in the escape."

"I understand," she replied, anger still sketched across her features.

"Would you not think less of me if I did not fight him?" Peter suddenly blurted out as his fingers held Cara's shoulders tightly. "I would be a coward if I ignored Caspian's advice, Cara. We both know this." The anger quickly fled from Cara's face and her tight shoulders softened under Peter's fingers.

"But what if he kills you," she whispered softly.

"I have as great a chance dying in battle as I do to his sword," Peter responded. Cara's face fell further at his words, her fingers running softly over his chest and her eyes moving from his. "Look at me," he whispered as his hands ran across her neck and to her face. "I fear you leaving as much as you fear me fighting."

Finally meeting Peter's gaze, Cara arched her toes and lifted herself closer to Peter's lips. He lowered his head at once, their lips meeting softly in a gentle embrace. Unable to control her growing emotions, Cara pulled her body closer to Peter's and opened her mouth to his. Responding instantly, Peter's arms wrapped tightly around her torso and pulled her petite body from the ground. He kissed her with every emotion that he had. His fear and apprehension of her leaving flowing from his body and into hers.

Breathing heavily, Peter pulled his lips from Cara's and set her softly on the ground. Forcing her eyes open, Cara placed one last kiss upon Peter's neck before pulling from his grasp and climbing onto Alvaro's back.

"I will return to see you defeat Miraz," she said as she moved passed Peter and towards the forest. "I promise."

_Please let me know what you think! A little boring? Need more fluff? Less fluff? Anything? _


	19. A Light in the Darkness

_Hey guys! I apologize for falling off the face of the earth for a little while, but I'm in my senior year of college and doing honors in the major. Needless to say my life is swamped. No worries about the story though…it will be updated and WILL be finished. I feel like this Chapter is far from perfect, but I SO wanted to post something that I couldn't wait._

Chapter 18

A Light in the Darkness

The night was warmer than usual, the breeze carrying a soft smell of rain and the air thick with moisture. Dancing between the trees were the distant fires of the Telmarine camp; their orange, gold glow matching the color of the sky as it rippled with lightning. Anxious about the night to come, Susan tightened her reins and glanced quickly at Lucy. "Do not let go of me," she said softly. Lucy nodded in response, her wide eyes staring past Susan and out of the How.

The sound of Alvaro's hooves echoed down the corridor as Cara rounded the last bend and approached the two Queens at a slow canter. Although her head was held high and her shoulders squared, the look in her eyes was one of complete apprehension.

"We ready then?" Susan asked softly as Cara pulled Alvaro to a jumpy halt. Trying to keep herself from turning back and leaping into Peter's arms, Cara nodded quickly and absentmindedly licked her already moist lips.

"Peter will be alright," Susan continued, which caused Cara's eyes to meet hers directly. Truly it was a defining moment between the two young women, for Cara's eyes held such worry and want that it was impossible for Susan to deny the emotion that was felt between the High Queen and her brother. "You will see him again," the Gentle Queen added softly. Cara's eyes relaxed at Susan's words and with one last, silent nod, she kicked Alvaro forward and out into the night. Susan watched her go before looking worridly to Lucy.

"We can do this, Susan," the young Queen whispered. Casting her glance back onto the glowing form of Alvaro as he moved into the swaying trees, Susan released a heavy sigh and urged her steed out of the How.

Soon the three Queens were riding steadily through the night, their footfalls shadowed by the blowing wind and angry sky. Despite their thick covering, the group was only a few minutes from the How when Telmarine soldiers began to filter from the trees and bear down upon them.

"Only slow if you must," Cara yelled over the wind as she pulled Alvaro back and latched hold of the hilt of her sword.

"Cara!" Lucy yelled as the High Queen vanished between the trees. Focused on the task at hand, Susan's eyes remained forward as her legs squeezed tighter along the horse's sides and her free hand intertwined itself with Lucy's.

As soldiers upon horseback began to trail Susan and Lucy, Cara and Alvaro turned back towards the How and fell in line behind them. Not seeing the High Queen until it was too late, two Telmarines crumbled to the ground as Cara rode between them and threw both from their horses. Hearing the shrieks of pain, it was only moments before those following the two Queens caught sight of Cara and turned their swords towards her.

Stopping quickly, Alvaro moved away from the soldiers as they crashed together and forced another to fall to the ground. The man cried in pain when Alvaro's hooves pounded into his back and legs as Cara pushed Alvaro into a gallop and pulled a dagger from her belt. Letting the dagger fly, another soldier slumped forward, his steed weaving from Susan and Lucy's path.

The wind began to blow wet as a wall of rain poured from the sky and onto the dwindling group of riders. Ignoring the soaked hair that was now tickling her face, Cara moved close to the last Telmarine and attempted to pull him from his horse. Having already seen her tricks, the rider twisted from her grasp and swung his sword close to Cara's face. Reacting quickly, Cara ducked close to Alvaro's back and pulled another dagger from her belt.

Still moving at a gallop with the rain whipping in their faces and the trees hindering their path, Cara and the last Telmarine began to fight as Cara attempted to shove her dagger deep in his side. Trying to help his Queen, Alvaro shoved against the other horse forcing his shoulder into a large oak. The Telmarine yelped in pain as his knee rammed into the hard wood, his leg ripped backwards against the pressure.

Using the soldier's moment of weakness, Cara grabbed hold of his armor and pushed him from his horse. Gasping, Cara found herself shoved from Alvaro as another group of soldiers moved from the trees and rammed harshly into Alvaro's side. The horse stumbled along with his rider, both falling to the wet ground and sliding nearly two yards into a nearby tree.

Immediately regaining his footing, Alvaro clamored back to his feet while Cara rolled onto her back and wiped the mud from her face. Her lungs felt heavy as she sputtered under the rain and sucked in deep breaths of thick air. Alvaro nudged her harshly, his massive body moving anxiously beside her.

Cara pushed his muzzle from her face as she latched hold of a low hanging branch and pulled herself forward. Just managing to catch the gleam of a sword among the rain, Cara let out a shriek and fell back to the ground. The Telmarine cursed loudly as his sword stuck into the tree behind Cara and scrambled backwards as his feet slipped in the thick mud.

Using his misfortune to her advantage, Cara kicked the soldier's feet and forced him completely to the ground. Both fumbled quickly as their hands scrambled along the mud in search of any type of weapon. Finding a stick, the Telmarine whipped in close to Cara face, its branches and wet leaves immediately entangling themselves in her hair and scratching along her damp skin.

Releasing an angered huff, Cara clamored to her feet and kicked the soldier directly in the jaw. He fell backwards immediately, a small line of blood mixing with the water on his chin. Breathing heavily, Cara made her way to Alvaro and scrambled ungracefully onto his back. Anxious to rejoin the chase, Alvaro lunged forward and into a gallop, his feet still insecure on the soggy ground.

"Where is Cara?" Susan shouted to Lucy as her horse weaved between two tight trees, the branches smacking both Queens directly in the face. Lucy sputtered under the onslaught of water and rubbed her eyes.

"I don't know, but we are still be trailed," the young Queen responded as she glanced quickly over her shoulder and clutched tightly to Susan's wet gown. Thinking quickly, Susan reached for her bow and pulled their mount to a quick stop. Lucy's eyes widened as she watched her sister turn their horse and take aim at the approaching Telmarines.

"Cara said to keep moving," she shouted to Susan in a strained tone. Ignoring Lucy's voice, Susan let loose her arrow, the wind pushing it just inches from its mark. "Susan!" Lucy continued as the riders gained ground. Letting out an exasperated sigh, Susan pulled the horse back around and leapt into a gallop.

Nearly fifty yards behind the group, Cara moved her body closer to Alvaro's neck and squeezed her thighs tightly to his body. The wind gusted in uneven bouts forcing branches and rain to pelt Cara in the face and blur her sight. Squinting her eyes, Cara urged Alvaro even faster, his agile body weaving between trees and leaping over fallen logs.

Soon the five Telmarine soldiers trailing Susan and Lucy came into sight, their horses now only yards behind the two Queens. Cara watched in horror as Susan's horse stumbled over a deep ditch, the loss of speed forcing two Telmarines to collide with the sliding horse, all riders falling to the ground in a cluttered heap.

Susan struggled to find Lucy as she shoved the Telmarine on top of her hard in the stomach. "Lucy!" she yelled frantically, but her cries were only met by the groans of soldiers and the rapidly blowing wind. Attempting to yell again, Susan's voice became muffled as the hands of a Telmarine wrapped tightly around her slender neck and forced her back to the ground.

Cara reached the group quickly, Alvaro nearly tripping over the mess as he skidded to a halt. Although two soldiers were on the ground, the three still upon their steeds surrounded Cara instantly and pointed their swords towards her neck. Breathing heavily, Cara looked to the men around her with wide eyes. Nearly every angle of escape was blocked by a sword, leaving Cara the only choice of dipping under the blades and slipping heavily from Alvaro's back.

Hitting the ground with a hard _thump_, Cara rolled onto her side and collided with the struggling form of Susan, whose face was pale and dirtied as the soldier's hands continued to cling tightly to her neck. Reacting quickly, Cara flung her body on top of the Telmarine and forced Susan from his grasp. The gentle Queen sucked in a deep breath of moist air and attempted to relieve the pain from her strained lungs.

Beside her, Cara was now attempting to pull herself from the soldier's grasp, her legs kicked frantically as her hands moved around in the dirt. Finally connecting with a hard, round object, Cara's fingers restricted as her arms swung forward and whacked the man in the face. Crumbling instantly to the ground, the soldier pulled Cara's form forward and onto his chest. After releasing a gurgled shriek, Cara fumbled backwards and away from him, her eyes finally catching sight of the large gash created by her rock. She did not know if he was dead or simply knocked out, but as Susan climbed to her feet and turned rapidly in a circle, Cara quickly realized that Lucy was nowhere in sight.

"Where is she?" Cara yelled as she stepped away from Susan. "Where is the other soldier?" Fueled by the fear in Cara's voice, Susan's chest restricted as panic began to consume her.

"Lucy," she whispered as she fumbled forward and looked into the dark woods around her. Tears began to swell behind her eyes as Cara's voice rang through the air.

"There!" Cara shouted as she grabbed an abandoned sword from the ground and took hold of her long skirt. Barely visible through the darkness and rain was the struggling form of a Telmarine as his fingers reached for the small outline of Lucy. Also fighting to reach Narnia's youngest Queen were the three soldiers still upon horseback, but Alvaro maneuvered and thrust his body between and against the riders forcing them further back from the group and away from their prize.

Too occupied by Lucy, the soldier neither saw nor felt Cara as she moved behind him and shoved her sword deep into his stomach. Lucy screamed at the sight of blood, her hand moving to cover her face as her body slipped backwards. Susan grabbed Lucy instantly and wrapped her arms tightly around her torso, while Cara pushed the Telmarine from her sword and whistled to Alvaro.

The horse's ears perked at the sound, his body moving swiftly towards his Queen. Free from Alvaro's blockade, the remaining soldiers looked to each other before disappearing in the surrounding wood. Cara watched them flee, her fingers brushing the wet hair from her eyes.

"Will they return?" Susan asked softly as she pulled away from Lucy and followed Cara's line of sight.

"Yes," Cara responded and turned her eyes towards Susan and Lucy's horse, which stood beside a tree shaking slightly from the rain and wind. "Lucy, remount your horse. Susan, take one of the Telmarine's."

Nodding at Cara's order, Susan placed a hand on the small of Lucy's back and pushed her towards the horse. Cara followed suit, her arms struggling as she lifted Lucy from the ground and onto the horse's back. "We will follow behind you," Cara said softly as Lucy looked at the two Queens below her. "No matter what you hear or see, I want you to ride until you have nothing but silence surrounding you."

A small wave of fright washed over Lucy's features, but the Valiant Queen inside of her forced the fear from her face and nodded slowly to Cara. Rising to the tips of her toes, Susan reached forward and pulled Lucy's forehead towards her lips. "We will see you soon," she whispered as she pulled away.

"Go now," Cara said as she moved away from Lucy's mount and towards Alvaro. After casting one last look to Susan, Lucy tightened her fingers around the thin reins and kicked the horse forward. Susan watched as Lucy disappeared between the trees and sheets of rain, her dark hair sticking to her quivering lips.

"She will be alright, Susan," Cara said as she pulled herself onto Alvaro's back and attempted to situate her heavy, soaked gown. Rubbing the hair from her cheeks, Susan turned to Cara with a determined look and searched the ground for her fallen bow. After finding it shoved under the body of a Telmarine, she latched hold to one of their abandoned horses and climbed gracefully on top.

"How long before they return?" the Gentle Queen asked as she rode close to Cara.

"I don't know," came Cara's soft reply.

BBBBBB

"Peter," Edmund said gently as he came to stand beside his brother. Peter sighed heavily but did not avert his eyes from the rain that continued to fall or the dark forest that it shielded. "I'm worried about them too, you know," he continued after a moment of silence. When Peter still remained voiceless, Edmund let out a deep huff and ran his fingers through his ragged hair.

"Did you ever fall in love, Ed? You know, when we were here before," Peter asked suddenly. Edmund frowned at the random question and leaned his back against the stone wall behind him.

"You know I did," he responded quietly, his voice releasing a shaky laugh towards the end. "By Aslan she was beautiful," he continued as his eyes glazed over with memories.

"Why didn't I?" Peter asked as he finally tore his gaze away from the blurred forest and looked to his younger brother. Edmund eyed him softly, nothing about his face judgmental or criticizing.

"You were never looking for love," Edmund answered before looking to the ground and laughing. "I always was." Peter's grim face cracked a smile as an image of an adult Edmund entered his mind—tall and charming, a dashing young rogue with a mysterious presence and quiet personality.

As quickly as the smile appeared it vanished, and without another word Peter leaned his shoulder against the cold stone and returned his eyes to the forest. Releasing a small sigh, Edmund walked to Peter's side and placed a secure hand on his shoulder. "Dr. Cornelius is ready for you. We will be waiting by the Stone Table," he said softly before pulling his hand away and returning to the depths of the How.

Peter followed shortly after, the call of duty forcing him to end his distant thoughts and return to the here and now. Brushing away visions of Cara and the strange emotions brewing deep within, Peter squared his shoulders and tried recall the voice that he spoke with long ago.

When Peter entered the chamber of the Stone Table, Dr. Cornelius, Edmund and Caspian all stopped talking and looked towards him. It was obvious by their blank stares that Peter was the topic of conversation. After letting out a deep sigh and running his fingers through it unkempt hair, Peter turned to the group.

"Ready Dr.?" he asked. Nodding rapidly, Dr. Cornelius flattened the piece of parchment before him and placed his quill softly on the paper.

"Begin when you wish, your Majesty," he replied. After pursing his lips in thought, Peter made himself comfortable beside the Stone Table.

_Peter, by the gift of Aslan_…

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Although little time had past, it was barely raining by the time the soldiers returned. The night was quiet save for the soft drips of water as droplets fell from the canopy of the trees and onto the already moist ground. Cara and Susan sat steadily upon their steeds; each Queen posed and ready with their weapons grasped tightly at their sides.

Slowly the distant sound of breaking branches and thundering hooves echoed around the wood, the noise indicating that the Telmarine horde was only seconds away. Susan's eyes narrowed as the first soldier broke from the trees and came into sight. With perfect precision she lifted her bow and took aim. The arrow released as her lungs expelled the air within them, the horse under her shifting slightly from the noise.

The remaining soldiers paid little attention as one of their comrades fell heavily to the ground, their horses still carrying them forward with powerful strides. Feeling her confidence growing, Susan tightened her lips into a thin line and strung another arrow. After a moment of silence, the arrow left her grip and entered the neck of the leading Telmarine. Almost instantly she was taking aim once again.

Completely out of daggers, Cara waited for the soldiers to move close enough for the reach of her sword. Alvaro was fidgety under her, for he could feel the tension and anxiety building in Cara's body as her finger massaged the hilt of her sword and her heart pounded in her chest.

Susan killed two more Telmarines before looking to Cara and nodding her head. With a quick release of breath Cara shoved her sword into the air and kicked Alvaro into a gallop. The horse leapt forward in excitement, his front feet rising from the ground before pushing against the soggy mud. The soldiers crashed heavily into the two Queens, the sound of battle immediately ricocheting off of the trees around them.

It was not long before one of the former soldiers pushed past the horde and deeper into the woods, for he had quickly realized by the protective actions of the older girls that the child was of greatest concern.

"Cara!" Susan yelled over the sounds of battle. Finding a moment of freedom, Cara glanced quickly to Susan. The gentle Queen pulled a Telmarine from his horse before shifting her eyes towards Cara. "Find her." Cara's eyes moved from Susan and deep into the forest before falling back on the gentle Queen. "Go!" Susan shouted at Cara's lack of movement.

With one last glance, Cara pulled Alvaro away from the fight and urged him into the gallop. Her dress was heavy and clingy, the wet fabric cool against her heated skin. Trying to ignore the worry of leaving Susan, Cara forced her eyes to remain forward as Alvaro weaved between trees, the footing making it difficult for him to reach a full gallop.

After nearly twenty minutes of hard riding, the Telmarine and his steed became visible in the dim lighting and heavy brush. Cara's eyes widened as the outline of another figure began to develop in the distance. _Lucy_, she whispered, her legs pushing Alvaro even faster.

Worrying filled the High Queen as the soldier inched ever closer to Lucy, his sword drawn and ready. Cara's heart pounded as Lucy's steed stumbled slightly allowing the Telmarine to gain even more ground. As the chase continued and fear began to fill Cara's body, a blurred figure running parallel to the small group became visible through the trees. Slowly a steady glow began to fill the dark crevices of the wood.

Alvaro began to slow his speed; his ears perked towards the blurred figure as it surpassed the High Queen and inched closer to Lucy and the Telmarine. Cara fought to keep her steed moving; her lips allowing strings of panicked phrases to slip through as her legs kicked Alvaro's sides repeatedly. A scream ripped through the sky causing Cara's body to become rigid and still. Alvaro moved slightly under her; his eyes and ears staring forward.

Complete silence followed the scream. Cara's chest moved visibly above her beating heart, but the steed below her seemed untouched by the quiet. Suddenly—moving just as quickly as the scream—came the roar of a lion. The sound rippled over the ground in waves, its power washing over Cara. Although the sound's command was terrifying, the fear in Cara left her body and her heart calmed instantly. "Aslan", she whispered. "Aslan", she said again, this time with laughter and joy filling her voice. "Aslan!"

Alvaro immediately leapt into a canter, his head shaking with happiness. As the duo moved closer to the faint images of a lion and a little girl, the Telmarine horse galloped past and disappeared into the darkness behind them. His rider ran slowly behind, his face blank with fear. Cara laughed openly as she past the horseless rider; her eyes glancing over him quickly before moving to the still faint figure of Aslan, whose presence seemed massive in the dense wood.

With her eyes still focused on the image before her, Cara slid timidly off of Alvaro and leaned close to his side. "My daughter," came Aslan's deep voice. Cara's feet moved instantly, each step making the distance between her and the Great Lion diminish.

Without thought, Cara haphazardly fell to the ground and threw her face into Aslan's great mane. Her body pressed tighter to his as he wrapped his massive paw around her back. Soon Lucy's body crashed into him as well, causing Aslan to roll to the ground with a thunderous laugh. The Queens laughed in response, their fingers and faces gliding over his silky body.

Although it was nearly and hour before the sun would show her face, the forest around them glowed with a golden light. Both Cara and Lucy pulled back slowly, their eyes wide and brimming with renewed hope. "I knew it was you," Lucy whispered as he looked deeply into Aslan's eyes. "The whole time—I knew it." Cara glanced down at the little Queen's words, a wave of shame washing over her body. _Why had they not believed her?_

"But the others didn't believe me," Lucy continued, her eyes remaining glued to the Lion before her.

"But why would that stop you from coming to me?" Aslan responded in an even tone, his voice warm, yet questioning. Cara looked softly to the Queen beside her. Lucy returned the glance before casting her eyes back to Aslan.

"I'm sorry," she replied. "I was too scared to come alone." It was now Lucy's turn to cast her eyes downward. Cara carefully moved her fingers over the young Queen's, the warm feeling giving Lucy the courage to raise her chin once more.

"You will never be alone," Cara said softly.

"She is right Little One," Aslan added as he lowered his head closer to the two Queens. Cara met his gaze for the first time since their encounter, her shoulders feeling heavy under his stare, yet her body feeling cleansed by his presence. "My daughter," he repeated his earlier words. "You have accomplished your tasks well, and I see that time and distance separates you and your King no longer, but you are long from done. As we speak, the severity of the situation is weighing heavily upon Peter's shoulders. Return to him. Aid him in his task."

The High Queen nodded quickly, her body moving with purpose as she pushed herself from the ground and shook the leaves and drying mud from her dress. Never before had her soul so happily relinquished to a demand.

"Wait," Lucy said suddenly as her eyes darted from tree to tree. "Where is Susan?"

Cara's eyes grew wide in fright at the realization that the Gentle Queen was not among them. "The soldiers," Cara whispered as she hastened to Alvaro's side.

"That will not be necessary," Aslan said with slight laughter in his voice, which caused Cara to stop abruptly and look to him. With a frown she followed the line of his eyes until her gaze fell upon the ragged, yet stunning form of the Gentle Queen as she walked from the shadows of the forest and into the strange light that surrounded them. All was silent as Susan moved carefully towards them, her delicate feet barely making a sound as they touched the ground, and her slender fingers clutching tightly to her bow.

When she saw Aslan she stopped abruptly and lowered her eyes. A moment of awkward silence followed. "Susan," Aslan's deep voice said, but she still stood quietly in her spot. Although neither Lucy nor Cara would ever mention the moment, both were sure that tiny tears were spilling down the Queen's dirtied cheeks. "You have listened to your fears, child," Aslan continued softly. "Come, let me breath on you."

With timid steps Susan made her way carefully towards him. "Forget your fears," Aslan said as his breathe washed over her body. "Are you brave again?" he questioned.

"A little, Aslan," she responded.

"Now," continued Aslan, "The moon is setting. Look behind you: there is the dawn beginning. We have no time to lose. Alvaro," Aslan said suddenly causing the horse's ears to perk forward in anticipation. "Make haste back to the How with your rider. You are both needed elsewhere." Without hesitation Cara climbed onto Alvaro's back and turned from the small group. Alvaro immediately leapt into a gallop, both horse and rider leaving the light and disappearing into the darkness.

"Will Cara be safe?" Lucy asked worriedly as she climbed to her feet and looked into the forest with a furled brow. "There might still be soldiers." Aslan made his way to his feet as well before shaking the leaves from his great mane.

"We will make her safe," he replied, which caused Susan to glance at him with slight confusion. Lucy, reacting quite differently from her sister, smiled brightly and moved to his side.

"So you will help?" she asked

"Of course," he replied. "As will you both," he finished as his eyes moved from Lucy to Susan.

"Oh," Lucy said softly. "I wish I was braver."

"If you were any braver you would be a lioness," Aslan responded with a deep chuckle, the sound causing Lucy's frown to fade from her face. "Now," he continued, "I think your friends have slept long enough."

Susan and Lucy watched as Aslan took in a deep breathe of air and tilted his head up to the sky. Thunderous, deep sound filled the air as his lips curled back exposing his pointed teeth. The trees around them shook; their leaves and branches taking in the power of the noise.

Cara pulled Alvaro to a halt when the roar reached her. Both horse and rider looked to the trees that surrounded them. Although they were still stagnant in the ground, the forest seemed to reverberate with life. Cara watched as the ground below her began to move, the mud and leaves shifting as if the soil deep below was alive. With more power than the first, another roar shook the forest. It was louder and deeper than the one before—more angry, more demanding. Without warning the forest around them began to move. The branches swayed and the trunks shook. After hundreds of years of silence, the trees were dancing once again.

The High Queen allowed as gasp of wonder to pass her lips, for even during the times of her rule, never before had she witnessed such a wondrous sight. Another non-believing chuckle escaped her throat as the forest before her parted into a perfect path, the branches almost indicating for her to follow. With her eyes still watching the dancing forest around her, Cara urged Alvaro into a steady canter and safely made her way back to the How.

BBBBBBBB

Peter and Edmund sat alone in a distant chamber deep in the How. Clutched in Peter's hand was the letter that Dr. Cornelius had written hours earlier, the edges beginning to crinkle from Peter's continuous handling of it. Edmund let out a smile sigh as he watched Peter's eyes gaze over the words for what seemed like the hundredth time. "Truly, Pete, the letter could not be any more perfect. Stop agonizing over it and get some sleep," Edmund said as he rested his head against the cold stone wall and closed his droopy eyes. The Just King was beyond exhausted, but Peter's anxiety seemed so high that he felt horrible leaving him alone.

Edmund allowed a small smile of success to reach his lips as he heard Peter let out a loud sigh and sit heavily onto the ground. A few moments of silence fell over both Kings. Peter's rough hands massaged his pounding temples as Edmund's mind began to slip into a world of perfect quiet and sheer exhaustion.

"I think I'm going to clean my armor," Peter suddenly announced as he pushed himself from the dusty ground and made his way from the dimly lit chamber. Once again awoken from his almost-asleep daze, Edmund rubbed his eyes and growled deep in his chest.

"For the sake of all things Holy, Peter, go to bed!" he shouted at the High King's retreating back. Peter said nothing, opting instead to continue on his way in silence.

Edmund threw his hands up in exasperation. "Why do I have to be Edmund the _Just_," he mumbled incoherently as he pushed himself up from the ground. "I much rather be Edmund the…_wicked_. Yes. The wicked. That way I could simply pound him in the back of the head and solve this entire ordeal." Edmund continued his rant as his footsteps trailed Peter's, his glaring eyes remaining on the High King's golden head the entire time.


	20. No Matter What Happens

_So at this point I'm assuming that many of you guys are going "OMG she actually updated!!!" I'm truly sorry for the long wait, and I hope I haven't lost the attention of most of you. I want to thank all of you that sent me messages and reviews asking me to continue this story. This chapter is for all of you. Anyways…enjoy and review. _

Chapter 19

No Matter What Happens

Glozelle had been awake for hours. He tried to blame his lack of sleep on the hardness of the ground, or the pounding rain that flooded his tent and shook his roof, but he knew that it was not the damp earth or noise that kept him from sleep, for the sounds had long since quieted, and yet sleep was still nothing more than a faint ghost that refused to make itself present.

"Blasted girl," Glozelle growled to himself as he shifted his body weight, the true cause of his restless night staring hazily back at him from his mind's eye.

Hours earlier high alarm reached the camp as news of escape blew across the land with the same force as the roaring wind. "Two riders; both women," a young soldier had shouted over the rain to King Miraz, whose shoulders tightened instantly. The beat of Glozelle's heart increased as he looked to his angered King.

"The Wench?" Miraz questioned after a long pause, his eyes glaring forward into the dark. The soldier snuck a quick look at his General before finding the courage to return his eyes to Miraz.

"Yes, my King. She rides the same stallion. I recognize the other as well—the horse—not the girl," he mumbled before continuing. "It's Caspian's mare." Miraz's eyes immediately focused on the young man. "They have already killed nearly ten of your men, and they carry with them a child." The soldier looked scared as the new information wrapped itself around Miraz's mind; his shoulders hunkered closely to his body.

"Kill them both," Miraz finally spat before turning towards the light of his tent, only stopping when the entrance to the tent flapped violently towards his legs. "Bring me the child," he finished before disappearing into the dim light.

Glozelle's eyes remained on the King's tent for a few long moments before turning towards the soldier. "How many men follow them now?" he asked as he placed his hand upon the boy's back and slowly ushered him towards his horse.

"Around fifteen, General," the soldier responded, his body language indicating that he was far more comfortable now that King Miraz was out of sight. Glozelle's head nodded absentmindedly. He knew that sending more men would increase his chances of carrying out Miraz's wishes, but the weak part of his soul urged him to call them off completely. The girl had escaped death once, but he could not promise her survival a second time.

"General?" the soldier questioned over the rain; his voice dragging Glozelle from his private thoughts. "What are your orders?"

Licking his lips, Glozelle turned away from the boy and glanced towards the woods that surrounded the How. Somewhere, hidden by the rain and the whipping trees, two young women and a child were fighting for their lives. The hatred and anger that once fueled Glozelle's body was gone; lessened after his attempt to murder Caspian had failed, and completely extinguished after his eyes landed upon the broken form of his enemy's High Queen. Old Narnia fought for so much more than King Miraz ever could. They fought for love and honor. They fought for something worth fighting for.

Still, Glozelle had to send more men. His Sovereign commanded it.

"Lead ten more men," Glozelle finally responded. The soldier nodded in response to his order, his eyes filled with new excitement.

"Yes, General," he responded as he skipped slightly and turned on his heel.

Glozelle watched him go, his heart suddenly feeling heavy and cold. Involuntarily his hand reached towards the soldier; a lame attempt at stopping his fleeing form. Forcing his fingers closed and back to his side, Glozelle shook his head and returned to his tent. Quietly he sat upon his bed, the water from his cloak immediately soaking through the worn blankets. Glozelle paid little attention to the cold sensation, for his mind was overwhelmed with images of Cara's blood stained body.

Attempting to rid the Queen from his mind, Glozelle focused on the sounds that surrounded him and lowered his body completely unto his bed. He had done the right thing—he was sure of that—but his hazy dreams were littered with visions of the High Queen, her judging eyes keeping sleep from wholly embracing him.

And so, after hours of haunted visions, Glozelle finally abandoned his bed and brushed aside the flap of his tent. The morning was quiet despite the ciaos that ensued the night before. Soldiers lumbered around or huddled around fires, sipping thick black coffee and eating hard lumps of bread and dried meat. The somber feeling that drifted through the camp lightened Glozelle's heart—perhaps the High Queen had evaded death once again.

"Glozelle!" a man shouted from a distance, the morning mist obscuring Glozelle's vision of him. With squinted eyes, the General finally found the form of Lord Sopespian, a small man with wiry dark hair and twitchy eyes that never told the turn. Glozelle inwardly grimaced.

"Sopespian," he responded with a slight nod as the man came into full view and stopped before him. Glozelle noted the small smile that played across the Lord's lips.

"Glozelle," Sopespian repeated in a softer tone as his hand reached for the General's shoulder, drawing him closer. "May we speak bluntly?" he asked with a pointed look. Glozelle's brow furled as he nodded slowly. "Good," he continued as the two men began to walk. "Surely the happenings of last night illustrate our King's—," he paused for a long moment and waved his hand thoughtfully—"inability to control the savages," he concluded after finding the words.

"Inability?" Glozelle questioned.

"Perhaps the word is harsher than desired, but that young wench and her followers slipped through his fingers for a second time, killing over a dozen of our soldiers…" Sopespian continued to speak, but Glozelle's mind remained focused on a few simple words. _Slipped through his fingers _reverberated through the General's mind. Cara was alive. He had not been the cause of her death.

"…so you see, dear friend, it is our duty as protectors of this great land to enforce our ideals and to fortify the control that is slipping through Miraz's fingers," Sopespian concluded and look expectantly at Glozelle. Having missed half of what the Lord had said, Glozelle nodded quickly, his mind grasping none of what he just agreed with.

"Good," Sopespian responded.

BBBBBBB

Edmund watched as a tiny, brown leaf separated itself from the branch clutched loosely in his fingers and fluttered towards the ground. It was morning. The air was cool and soft, and the sun was just visible as it caressed the tops of the trees. Seemingly unaware of the small group gathering behind him, Edmund took his eyes away from the now resting leaf and looked silently over the vast field that separated Old Narnia from the New.

The Telmarine camp was beginning to move, each man and horse looking to be nothing more than a wandering dot at the edge of the wood. "The giant is nearly ready, Sire," Glenstorm said softly as he came to stand beside his King, a branch clutched between his fingers as well. Edmund turned his eyes towards the General but said nothing. Without warning the ground shook slightly underneath their feet, but neither King nor General seemed concerned with the movement. The vibrations continued, each time louder and deeper.

"Shall we?" Edmund questioned once the shaking ground steadied itself. Now beside the General was Wimbleweather, his massive form towering over all in his vicinity. Glenstorm nodded to his King and absentmindedly swished his tail. With no words passing between them, the small group began their short journey to the Telmarine camp.

BBBBBBB

"Perhaps they intend to surrender," Glozelle said softly to his King as both men watched the small group steadily approach. Sopesoian stood not far behind with the rest of the men that deemed themselves Lords, his eyes glaring steadily at Miraz's back and his mind milling over his earlier conversation with Glozelle. With little idea what filled the minds of most of the men behind him, Miraz lowered the spy wear from his eye and moistened his lips. "No," he finally responded to Glozelle's statement. "They are much too noble for that."

As the Old Narnian's continued to approach, Miraz's soldiers began to filter from the trees, there eyes wide with wonder at the strange shape of Glenstorm and the large size of Wimbleweather. Although most were witness to the attack on their stronghold not a week prior, the extraordinary creatures were still something to behold.

Miraz looked to Glozelle before motioning his head towards the approaching trio. Without a word the two men stepped from the safety of the forest and entered the tall grass of the valley. Nothing was said as the five men came to stand before each other, Edmund's eyes taking in the mass of soldiers that lay not a hundred yards in front of him.

"Come," Miraz finally said as his hand reached forward to clasp Edmund's shoulder. Glenstorm visibly tensed and stepped forward, causing Miraz to drop his hand to his side and step back. Edmund shook his head slightly at the massive centaur. With a pointed glare at Miraz, Glenstorm fell back to his earlier position. Offering a tight smile, Miraz returned his hand to Edmund's shoulder and ushered him forward.

"Might I suggest that your companions stay outside the camp, young Prince," Miraz said as he glanced wearily over his shoulder. "I feel that their presence might cause distress among my men, leading to conflict that could be avoided."

Edmund allowed a smirk to form upon his lips as he looked towards the tall King beside him. "But surely seeing their King under little distress will illustrate a feeling a safety," he responded. Miraz glared slightly.

"Of course," he answered after a long pause. "Come Gentlemen," Miraz shouted as he and his small party fully entered the camp. "Let us see what this noble, young lad wishes to discuss." With smirks of confidence the Telmarine Lords followed their King to an open tent, which held a table large enough to hold them all.

Not ten minutes later Edmund found himself the center of attention as he unfolded Peter's letter and began to read. _"Peter, by the gift of Aslan, by election and conquest, High King of Narnia, Lord of Cair Paravel, and Emperor of the Lone Islands. In order to prevent the abominable infusion of blood, do here by challenge the usurper Miraz to single combat upon the field of battle. The fight shall be to the death. The reward shall be total surrender."_

A moment of silence spread throughout the tent as Edmund began to reroll the parchment. With a sigh Lord Miraz leaned back in his chair and stretched his legs out in front of him. "Tell me, Prince Edmu—."

"King," Edmund interjected, his fingers gracefully wrapping themselves around the letter and falling to his side.

"Pardon me?" Miraz responded as he pulled his legs back underneath his chair and moved his fingers absentmindedly along the blade of his sword.

"It's King Edmund, actually." Edmund began as he smiled softly at Miraz. "Just King, though. Peter is the High King," he continued, his eyes moving along the row of furled brows before him. Miraz looked beyond the boy to Glozelle, who responded with a small shrug. Noticing the look of utter bewilderment at the idea of more than one King, Edmund stifled a laugh.

"I know," he commented with a smirk that Miraz could not help but find condescending, "it's confusing."

Finding the laughter in the boy's voice far from amusing, Miraz fixed his eyes on Edmund and squared his shoulders. "Why would we risk such a proposal when our armies could wipe you out by nightfall?" Suddenly finding his humor, Miraz looked to the Lords around him with a light smile playing on his lips.

"Haven't you already underestimated our numbers? I mean, only a week ago Narnians were extinct," Edmund responded, his statement immediately ruining Miraz's new found humor.

"And so you will be again," Miraz retorted as his fingers flexed comfortably around the handle of his sword.

"Well then you should have little to fear," Edmund concluded, causing Miraz's chest to erupt with laughter.

"This is not a question of bravery," he explained.

"So you're bravely refusing to fight a swordsman half your age?" questioned Edmund with theatrically apparent confusion. Miraz's body visibly tightened as did the bodies of the men surrounding him.

"I didn't say I refused," Miraz commented as he leaned forward in his chair, the eyes of his Lords heavily upon him.

"You shall have our support your Majesty," one of the Lords interjected, "whatever your decision." Glozelle quickly noted that the speaker was looking more to Sopespian than his King. Edmund noted the silent interaction as well.

"Sire," Sopespian quickly continued, "our military advantage alone provides the perfect excuse to avoid wh—"

"I am not avoiding anything," Miraz clarified as he gripped his sword and stood menacingly over the smaller Lord. Edmund's eyes shifted between the two men, a small grin making its way across his lips.

"I was merely pointing out that my Lord is well within his rights to refuse," Sopespian clarified as he sunk dramatically back into his chair; the action more for show than from actually fear.

"His Majesty would never refuse," Glozelle added, joining the game. "He relishes the chance to show the people the courage of their new King." Miraz glanced quickly between both his trusted General and the Lord beside him. Their intent was obvious, but his pride pounded steadily with his heavy heartbeat.

"You," he finally said as he pointed his sword at Edmund's chest, "you should hope your brother's sword is sharper than his pen."

BBBBBB

Peter stared tiredly at his own eyes, his face reflecting back at him from the shiny gold of his shield. His body was soar and tired, and his mind seemed unable to focus upon anything. With a shaky sigh he moved his eyes away from his ragged reflection and rubbed them harshly with the tips of his fingers.

"Are you sure you can do this?" Edmund asked softly from a few paces behind his brother. Peter ignored his question, opting instead to tighten his jaw and reach for his armor. "As I mentioned earlier, Miraz's men are days away from tearing each other apart. Miraz is only in control through a title," he continued as he cocked his head towards Peter.

"Help me with this," Peter responded. It was a command, not a question.

Shaking his head in both frustration and amusement, Edmund stepped further into the room and towards Peter. He would have reached him in only a few short steps if a tiny, delicate hand had not grasped his arm and pulled him to a stop. With wide questioning eyes Edmund turned towards the pressure. Cara's free hand immediately reached his lips and softly silenced any sounds that might attempt to escape. Edmund's eyes grew even wider as they brushed over her ragged form, but he obeyed her wishes and made no noise. After a short moment he pulled her hand from his lips and gave her a silent nod.

With a small smile Cara stepped past Edmund and towards Peter, who was now fidgeting with a small strap that secured the armor across his chest and grumbling quietly to himself. "Truly, Ed, I cannot do this by myself," he finally huffed. Edmund watched as Cara slowly approached Peter before moving backward out of the chamber, a smile of contentment upon his face.

Cara's eyes softened as she came to stand behind Peter. His form was ragged and his shoulders where slouched. It seemed that the night was as difficult for him as it was for her. Staying silent, Cara pushed Peter's hands away from his armor and began to tighten each of the straps. Peter allowed his arms to fall at his side and rolled his head back just enough that he could stare blankly at the rocky roof of the cave.

"Do you think they are alright?" he asked softly after a long moment of silence. The words caused Cara to stop working momentarily. "What if—" Peter continued as his eyes continued to scan the rock above him, "—what if one of them doesn't make it? Will any of this truly matter if one of them dies? Will it still be worth it?"

Forcing herself to continue the task at hand, Cara swallowed the lump in her throat and finished securing Peter's armor across his chest. "Edmund?" Peter questioned, but was once again met with silence. "Ed, tru—," Peter said gruffly as he turned quickly intending to glare at his younger brother. Cara immediately pulled her fingers from Peter's armor and held them close to her chest, her eyes seeking Peter's.

The remainder of Peter's sentence drifted softly from his lips as his light eyes came into contact with Cara's dark. After taking two deep breaths he laughed breathlessly and pulled Cara's body tightly to his own. She responded instantly, her fingers losing themselves in his hair.

"Cara," Peter whispered as his lips found her neck and his arms lifted her from the ground. He held her silently with his eyes closed, savoring the feeling of having her warmth combine with his once again.

"Lucy? Susan?" Peter questioned as he gently set Cara's feet back on the ground, his worried eyes finding hers. Cara smiled softly as her fingers wound themselves with Peter's.

"There're fine, Peter," she whispered. Peter let out a shaky smile and leaned his forehead against hers. "I saw him," Cara continued, her fingers leaving Peter's and pushing slightly against his chest. Peter stepped back with a furled brow. Cara's smile faded as Peter's eyes refused to show any notion of excitement.

"Then where is he?" Peter finally responded. Cara's hands dropped from Peter's chest and landed at her side, her eyes filled with concern.

"He is with Susan and Lucy," she explained. "He sent me back here to be with you," Cara's words faded off as she stepped further away from Peter and wrapped her arms tightly around her chest. Peter's eyes swept over her ragged form before returning to her dirt smudged face.

"Every time we're parted you return as a dishevel mess," he said as a small smile touched his lips. Cara allowed a laugh to escape her lips before returning her face to a look of concern.

"He accepted, then?" she asked softy as her eyes moved over the armor that now covered portions of Peter's body. Peter simply nodded, but his shoulders suddenly became square and his jaw tight. Trying to suppress the feeling on panicked that was slowly building in her stomach, Cara cast her eyes down and took a deep, calming breath.

"I half believed finding Aslan would change that course of action," she whispered as she finally brought her eyes up to meet Peter's.

"You've accomplished your task," Peter responded, "allow me to accomplish mine." Cara nodded softly before seeming to decide something. Then, with her chin high and her shoulders square, she looked strongly at Peter and nodded again.

"Yes, my King."

The words hit Peter hard in the chest. Before him stood one of the most gallant women he had ever come across. Cara was a woman—though young—that had already witnessed years of bloodshed and tears; a woman that had led many a man into battle; a woman that had courageously acknowledged that the power of Narnia vanished between her fingers and now, Cara was a woman that was accepting the words of her King. _Her King._

Cara was never a subject to anyone beyond Aslan. Now, without reprove or mockery, she was standing before Peter and accepting him as her leader. Peter, though still fatigued and burdened, felt confidence touch every crevice of his body. He was King Peter the Magnificent, and _he_ was Cara's King.

Despite the seriousness of the moment, Peter could not help but allow a look of amusement to cross his features. Perhaps he would shorten his name. _Cara's King_ suddenly seemed far more fitting and far more impressive.

Peter now understood Cara's title. Although very different, they were equals in their love for Narnia and their passion for honor and freedom. Cara was wild and spontaneous, the look of royalty bestowed only upon the clothes she wore and the tightness in her shoulders. All else about her was liberated and unrefined. Peter was the essence of royalty. Every movement he made was calculated and every word he spoke was level and sincere. Apart Peter and Cara were very near opposites, but taken together they created the perfect monarch.

Finally realizing what seemed now to be blatantly obvious, Peter had the sudden feeling of want flow through him. He wanted her in his arms now and forever. He wanted her beside him throughout the remainder of life's tribulations. With an overwhelming buzz of realization, Peter knew that no matter what happened in this life or the next, he would go to the end of the earth to keep her beside him.

Without a further thought, Peter crossed the few feet that separated him from his Queen. Seeming to understand what had passed between them, Cara flung her arms around Peter at nearly the same moment. Their lips connected as Peter's hands lifted Cara from the ground and pulled her torso flush against his. Although the kiss began swift and fierce, it quickly manifested into a slow, yet powerful embrace. Peter's tongue was warm as it moved with Cara's, claiming her mouth as his fingers began to claim her body. Cara's heart beat wildly in her chest, her body filling with a tingly sensation that was foreign until now. Allowing all thought of war and death to leave her mind, Cara pulled her lips from Peter's and sighed as his breath and tongue tickled her neck and chest.

"I'll never leave you," he whispered. Closing her eyes, Cara pulled Peter's head tightly to her chest and kissed his golden hair.

Unbeknownst to the lovers, Caspian stood awkwardly at the entrance to the small cave. Although the reason for his intrusion was important, he felt overwhelmingly selfish ruining the noticeably intimate moment. After moving his weight between his feet and running his fingers uncharacteristically through his hair, Caspian forced a small grumble from his lips. The sound was soft, but it was still enough to jolt Cara and Peter into embarrassed stillness.

Cara turned her flushed face slowly towards Caspian as Peter gently set her feet back on the ground. "Caspian," he said confidently as he refused to let a struggling Cara out of his grasp. The young Prince cleared his throat once again before acknowledging his King.

"Peter."

The usually self-assured High Queen was now standing rigid beside Peter and looking everywhere but at the young man. Breaking the tension between himself and Peter, Caspian looked him directly in the eyes and smirked. "I don't think I've ever seen her so quiet before. Nor so red." Although Peter smiled at his words, Cara's once dormant temper quickly spilled forth.

"Is there something you need?" she questioned as she pulled her hand from Peter's and crossed her arms over her chest. Peter sighed at her sudden change in attitude, but quickly reminded himself that her temper was part of what made her alluring.

Sometimes.

Attempting to stifle a laugh, Caspian returned his gaze to Peter. "Everyone is ready for you in the chamber of the Stone Table." Peter nodded in understanding before turning to look at the fiery woman beside him.

"Go wash, change, and get something to eat. I need you looking presentable," he told her; the last part embellished with a small smirk. Finding the irritation suddenly leaving her body, Cara nodded and walked with poise past Caspian and out of site. Both young men watched her go with bemused expressions.

"You're going to have your hands full," Caspian said with a laugh as Peter grabbed the remainder of his armor and followed Cara's pervious path.

"I know."

BBBBBBBB

Feeling as refreshed as one can feel when one has not slept for nearly an entire day, Cara finished braiding her dark hair back from her face and grabbed one last piece of bread before hurrying towards the chamber of the Stone Table. The emblem of the Lion gleamed across her chest as the dancing light of the torches grazed her armor, and the red of her skirts foretold the battle to come. The chamber was filled to the brim with apprehensive, yet excited faces. All capable of fighting were outfitted in armor and brandishing weapons ranging from thick, dagger filled stumps, to finely crafted swords and bows.

Surrounded by his most trusted men, Peter stood before the cracked table fully adorned in his armor with Rhindon securely at his side. Without turning away from his conversation with Edmund or Caspian, Peter's hand reached for Cara as she came to stand beside him.

"Good," Peter stated as he finally turned towards his Queen, "we're all here now." After placing a simple kiss on the back of Cara's hand, Peter unwound his fingers from hers and stepped forward.

"The Telmarine legacy ends today." Peter's beginning words echoed across the massive chamber and mixed with the immediate applause that erupted from his people. "Whether it be from the sword at my side, or from the collective effort of all that now reside within this chamber, Narnia's rightful leader shall be placed upon the throne and the tyranny that has dictated your lives will end." Again, the applause was deafening, yet the noise seemed to fill each of its creators with exhilaration and hope.

"By now all of you know the plan if war shall come to pass. Fear not the ending of the How. Though it has brought us comfort and security, its walls are no longer needed. From this day forth we refuse to hide within a crypt. Also, fear not the absence of the Lion," Peter looked pointedly at Cara. With a nod of understanding she came to stand beside him.

"At this very moment Queen Susan the Gentle, and Queen Lucy the Valiant, seek aid with the guidance of the Great Lion," Cara began as a voice near one of the giant pillars shouted before she could continue.

"How do you know?" Heads began to nod as the question reached the ears of those around the room. Murmurs of agreement began to fill the room. Waiting for silence to once again fill the hall, Cara stood proud beside Peter and looked over her people.

"I saw him," she finally stated. Looks of astonishment spread throughout the chamber, while eyes moved every-which-way as if expecting Aslan to suddenly step forth and make himself known. "He is not within the How," Cara continued, "but you must be filled with the knowledge that he is here in Narnia, with your Queens. Be filled with the knowledge that his power and glory beats within each of our chests. Be filled with the knowledge that he knows what is best for our people. I trust his decision to not be here now. As should all of you," Cara concluded. The chamber was silent for a few long moments before Reepicheep darted before Cara and raised his sword high in the air.

"We fight," he shouted. "For Narnia. For Aslan!" Cara smiled warmly at the gallant mouse as the chamber filled for shouts. _For Narnia! For Aslan! _ Content with the feeling of hope that radiated from those around her, Cara turned to Peter and nodded.

It was time.

"Edmund and Glenstorm will be my seconds during the duel. I want the Bulgy Bear and Caspian close as well," Peter said to those around him.

"Where would you like Cara?" Caspian questioned as he moved forward. "She and Alvaro could lead the left charge under the How."

"No," Peter stated as he took Cara's hand and looked softly into her eyes.

"She will stand beside me. Where she belongs."


	21. Treachery

_Those of you who have read the book will recognize the first section. I understand why it was left out of the movie, but I still think it's a great scene! There is a lot going on in this chapter, so I hope it flows ok. Enjoy, and the next chapter will be even more intense!_

Chapter 20

Treachery

Susan smiled into the rushing wind as it caressed her cheeks and tickled her lips. It was midmorning, and the sun's rays swayed across the forest floor as Aslan carried the two Queens quickly from the forest. Susan's long, agile fingers loosely gripped the soft fur of her Lord and steed as sounds of bubbly laughter danced behind her.

"Your hair," Lucy giggled as she attempted to rid Susan's dark tresses from her face. Both Susan and Aslan cocked their heads to the side in an attempt to glance at the struggling Queen. Aslan's mouth turned up into a one-sided grin as the deep rumble of his chest tickled the legs of his riders. Susan's joyous laughter soon joined that of her companions.

Before long, Aslan broke away from the trees and came to rest in the center of a spacious valley. Confused about their whereabouts, and having little clue as to what Aslan had planned, both Queens gracefully slipped from his back and stood silently beside him. Then, without warning, Aslan lifted his head, shook his mane, and roared. The hum was more powerful than before, a thunderous throbbing like an organ whose notes came deeper and louder until the very ground shook with the sound.

Susan gasped as a dark mass began to surround them from all sides. It was still far off, but as time sped by it rolled forward and grew like a rolling ocean hastening towards the beach. Shortly it was upon them, and with a shriek of joy Susan realized that it was not a mass at all, but a magnificent gathering of trees. As the rushing trees came steadily closer, they began to look less like trees and more like people, and then, just as suddenly as they came, they stopped.

Lucy's face glowed with happiness as pale birch-girls tossed their heads, and willow-women pushed their long, leaf-laden tresses from their faces. The queenly-beeches stood still before Aslan, their golden eyes staring adoringly at him. The men—shaggy oaks, lean and melancholy elms, gay rowans, and shock-headed hollies—all bowed before Aslan and called his name. Soon the movement turned into a swaying dance that grew and changed as new worshipers appeared.

"When did he appear?" Lucy asked Susan quietly as a small boy skipped between the tree people. He was dressed in only a fawn skin, with light hair and a face that was beautiful, yet wild. Behind him came a row of women, all wearing little and jumping to and fro in an untamed, capricious dance. The tree people shouted his name, or what Susan guessed was his name, for there were many names being passed about. "Bromios," came a voice, while another shouted "Bassareau," and yet another, "Ram."

Accompanying the group was a man riding a donkey. Silently to herself, Susan described him as _quite_ _large_, while Lucy said without the slightest bit of concern, "He is rather fat, isn't he?" Susan went to scold her sister for such a rude remark, but the musical voice of the wild youth ended her rant before it could begin.

"Is it a Romp, Aslan?" he questioned gleefully, and both Queens assumed that it was, for the Lion beside them nodded his approval as the feral dance of the women grew with intensity while the guttural voice of the man on the donkey rang out.

"Refreshments!" he shouted as his mount swayed with the movement of the trees. As time continued and the dancing mass grew, vines began to filter through the group, their thin, smooth fingers wrapping around everything in sight.

"We're moving," Susan said in a breathless voice as she attempted to shoo a vine away from her hair. Lucy noted that she was indeed correct, for the vines had covered the ground creating a think blanket of green that seemed to be pulling them steadily along.

"Oh," Lucy said suddenly as she tugged on the arm of Susan's dress. "I say Su, I think I know who they are."

"Who?" questioned Susan while she continued to battle a vine.

"The boy with the wild feel about him is Bacchus, and the large one on the donkey is

Silenus. Don't you recall Mr. Tumnus telling us stories of them?" she answered excitedly.

"Yes, of course," responded Susan, "but I would not have felt safe with Bacchus and his wild girls if Aslan was not around."

"Well I should think not," replied Lucy.

BBBBBB

"His arrogance is his greatest weakness," Cara said purposefully to Peter as she adjusted the straps to his armor for what seemed like the umpteenth time. With a heavy sigh, Peter pulled Cara's fingers from his chest and forced her to look at him.

"I know," he stated simply. Cara pursed her lips and looked away from Peter's agitated frown. Truly her advice filled Peter with adoration the first few times she gave it, but after nearly ten minutes of constant fidgeting and instruction, Peter wished that she would simply remain quiet. "Cara," Peter continued while he pulled her away from the crowd that was gathering behind them and into a small crevice created by the turning wall. After settling his back against the cold stone, Peter pulled Cara against his chest and buried his head between her neck and shoulder.

"I'm scared for you," she whispered in a shaky voice.

"I know," he repeated his earlier sentiment, "but I need you to believe that I can beat him. I need you to know I will win." Peter pulled Cara away from his chest and found her dark eyes. Attempting to muster confidence she did not feel, Cara nodded stiffly to Peter.

"I know you will win," she said in a steady voice, her eyes never leaving Peter's.

"Good," he responded before placing a single kiss on her forehead and moving back into the large hall. Sighing, Cara closed her eyes and rested her head against the stony wall behind her. _Aslan be with us _she repeated silently as the sounds of pre-battle began to filter from the entrance of the How. After pushing another deep sigh from her lips, Cara opened her eyes and watched as Caspian and the Bulgy Bear walked steadily from the How and into the dim rays of the sun.

Next came Glenstorm and Edmund, the latter of which smiled softly at Cara as he moved past. Finding that she could no longer hide away from the world and ignore her responsibilities, Cara pushed herself away from the stone wall and looked for Peter. He stood not twenty paces from her, his fingers grasped around the hilt of Rhindon and his eyes closed in concentration. Although Cara could hear no words, the quick movement of his lips indicated that he was speaking softly to himself.

"Peter," Cara called. Peter mumbled a few more words before turning towards his Queen and squaring his shoulders. "It's time," she continued. With a silent nod Peter latched onto his shield and stepped forward.

"Hand me Rhindon," Cara ordered softly when Peter stopped before her. "The scabbard will only get in your way," she explained. Silently, Peter did as he was told and unbuckled the sword from around his waist. Cara took it carefully from his hands. "You will beat him," she added as Peter's worried eyes found hers. "You conquered a dictator far worse than Miraz when you were young and knew nothing of battle. I have no fear."

Although Peter gave no reply, the change in his eyes spoke loud enough for Cara to hear. Drawing in a full breath of air, Peter turned away from Cara and towards the exit of the How. Soft light poured in casting jumping shadows across the walls as Narnians cheered in anticipation of seeing their High King and Queen. Cara moved to stand beside Peter, and without another glance or word of encouragement, both royals walked towards the blinding light.

The sound was deafening. Cara's fingers turned white as she gripped Rhindon, for steadily coming into sight were the makeshift battle grounds and the hardened faces of the Telmarines. Suddenly the situation became all too real. Cara had no fear of dying, but the possibility of losing the man beside her was nearly too much to bare. Could the people survive if they lost their Monarch? Could she?

Fighting the overwhelming want to pull Peter back into the How and hide away from the world that was crumbling around them, Cara inhaled a sharp breath and briefly closed her eyes. She would be strong. She _had_ to be strong.

Beside her Peter showed no outward signs of concern. His face was hard and cold and the tightness in his shoulders looked more like confidence than concern. Each step he took was filled with determination.

While Cara's eyes scanned over the mass of polished silver that glittered brilliantly in the sun's light, Peter's eyes never strayed from Miraz. The self-proclaimed King sat slightly slouched in a chair at the far end of the arena, Glozelle and his Lord's scattered around him. His eyes and posture lacked the refinement of Peter's; an outward indication of who was truly King.

Edmund and Glenstorm acknowledged Peter as he approached, while Caspian and the Bulgy Bear stood quietly at each corner of the arena. Peter paid no attention to any of them. Across the way Miraz adjusted his heavy gloves and turned slightly to Glozelle. "Should it appear to be going poorly…" his words dropped off as his eyes grazed over the bow in Glozelle's hands.

"Understood, your Majesty," the General responded before turning his eyes away from Miraz and towards the two Royals that now stood opposite them. His eyes caught Cara's instantly. Both nodded in acknowledgment. As Cara ended their silent conversation by turning her attention to Peter, Glozelle noted that her body showed no signs of the damage that it had received only days earlier. _Dark magic?_ he wondered.

Cara held Rhindon out to Peter as Miraz rose to his feet. Cheers erupted as the sword moved from its scabbard and gleamed brilliantly in the sun. Following Peter's lead, Miraz grabbed his helmet from the hands of Sopespian. "I hope you won't be too disappointed if I survive," he said openly to the men around him. Sopespian shifted uncomfortably and glanced towards Glozelle. The General refused to meet his gaze.

Ignoring the silent meeting taking place behind him, Miraz shoved his helmet over his eyes and pulled his sword from its holding place. The muted gold of his now carved face hid the weariness of his eyes and cast an unmoving sneer across his features. Peter stepped forward without hesitation, his sudden movement pulling Miraz forward as well.

All noise ceased as the two men began to circle, both holding their swords high and strong. Cara stepped closer to Edmund, her finger's wrapping tightly to his and squeezing in terrified anticipation. Edmund held her hand securely.

"I see your whore returned to you," Miraz stated plainly as his sword indicated to Cara.

"Only after she escaped from you," Peter responded. "Twice." Glozelle smirked softly at the comment. Miraz tightened his jaw and looked quickly at the Lords behind him, half daring them to join Peter in his insults. Seeing that none dared, Miraz returned his gaze to Peter's.

"There is still time to surrender," Miraz continued, his voice level with fake sincerity.

"Well, feel free," Peter answered.

"How many more must die for the throne?" Miraz countered, his sword lowering as he did so. Peter's eyes took note of the action.

"Just one," Peter responded as he simultaneously lowered his face guard and moved swiftly towards a crumbled stone. Miraz crouched low and pulled his sword back to his chest; his body braced for Peter's inevitable attack.

Peter launched himself from the stone, the weight of his body propelling him directly towards Miraz. At the moment of impact Miraz circled, causing Peter's sword to miss him by mere inches. Recovering quickly, Peter turned towards Miraz and brought Rhindon down upon him. The blow was blocked easily, but the weight of Peter's strength vibrated down Miraz's arm.

The boy was strong.

Attempting to shift the attack, Miraz flung his shield towards Peter's face, the force of it knocking Peter sideways causing him to fumble.

But he was stronger.

With his sneer matching the one sketched across the features of his mask, Miraz continued his relentless attack. Each blow was heavy and random, the angry pulses forcing Peter to move quickly in order to keep is footing. The yells of the Telmarine soldiers increased with each new hit, their jeers of confidence laughing in the faces of their opponents.

Cara closed her eyes and clung desperately to Edmund's hand. _Move, Peter _she repeated silently in her head. _Move away from him. _Answering Cara's silent command, Peter skirted sideways causing Miraz to stubble forward. Regaining his footing, Peter spun quickly, his sword slicing along Miraz's back. The force sent Miraz to his knees. Cara opened her eyes as cheers of excitement sounded behind her. Before her Peter stood erect and ready as Miraz quickly clamored back to his feet and turned to face his waiting opponent.

They attacked at the same moment, their swords connecting and their armor clanging upon contact. Peter moved away quickly, the knowledge of Miraz's strength enticing him to keep his distance. Miraz yelled angrily as he swung his sword at Peter and met nothing but air. Fueled, Miraz attacked again, but Peter's light feet carried him away from the blade once again.

"Fight me," Miraz yelled as he swung to attack, he sword yet again grazing Peter's clothes. Finding himself at an advantage, Peter lurched towards Miraz, his shield shoving him back while Rhindon swung close Miraz's exposed torso. He missed, the armor on Miraz's arm stopping the cool blade from reaching his skin.

Stepping backwards from the force of Peter's weight, Miraz's moved his body low and shoved harshly against Peter, his sheer strength forcing Peter to fumble as his helmet scratched across his head and clamored to the ground.

Peter paid little attention to the cool sensation as the breeze caressed his sweat soaked hair and neck, for Miraz was instantly upon him. Ducking out of reach, Peter swung Rhindon low, the blade slicing through the thin fabric of Miraz's leggings and entering his skin. Miraz's leg buckled under the sudden pain as a sharp cry fell from his lips. Peter moved back from his opponent, the side of Rhindon glistening with red.

Miraz shifted back to his feet and cast his eyes angrily at Glozelle. The General shrugged his shoulders in response, the two men obviously having differing opinions on what _going badly _consisted of. Crying out in frustration, Miraz turned back towards Peter and attacked with ferocity. The assault was impulsive and uncalculated, giving Peter enough time to roll away from Miraz's blade and land securing behind him. Rising back to his feet, Peter threw his shield towards Miraz, but the man's large build swayed little under Peter's weight. With Peter unable to move away, Miraz shoved forward as he swiped Peter's legs from the ground.

Peter groaned at the sudden pain that shot through his back and forced the air from his lungs. Cara ran forward at the sight of Peter lying helplessly on the ground, but Edmund's arm wrapped tightly around her shoulders and held her back. "Peter," she whispered as Miraz stepped harshly on Peter's shield, the force rocking the stiff wood up and snapping Peter's unbending arm. Peter cried out in blinding pain as a horrifying _crack_ echoed in his ears.

Cara struggled against Edmund's arms, tears beginning to prick the corners of her eyes. "Please," she called out in frustration, her mind not even grasping who she was begging to. Her heart stopped as Miraz's sword rose swiftly in the air before bearing down upon Peter.

Filled with adrenaline, Peter ignored his throbbing shoulder and stopped Miraz's blade inches from his face. Miraz pulled his sword back and struck again, but Peter rolled swiftly out of the way causing Miraz to fumble forward and haphazardly swing his sword in blind frustration. Unable to roll any further, Peter stopped abruptly and spun the opposite way, the sudden change causing Miraz to fall gracelessly over him.

Both men rose slowly, their fatigue apparent in the laziness of their limbs. "Does his Highness need a respite?" Miraz asked heavily, his staggered breathing making the words come out in slow pulses. Peter looked him over wearily. Although the man seemed beaten and tired, Peter's left arm now hung uselessly at his side.

"Five minutes?" Peter questioned breathlessly.

"Three," Miraz countered even though it was apparent that his leg was now near as useless as Peter's arm. After nodding once, Peter turned towards Edmund and Cara, a wince escaping his lips as his heavy shield touched the ground and jolted his arm. Edmund rushed forward and dipped his shoulders under Peter's good arm. Peter immediately leaned heavily against him and temporarily closed his eyes.

Miraz was in much the same condition as he wandered towards his General. "I assume you won't let things get that close again," he shouted as he threw his helmet to the ground at Glozelle's feet. Glozelle said nothing as Miraz lowered himself slowly onto his chair, his eyes briefly meeting those of Sopespian.

As soon as Peter reopened his eyes he sought out Cara. She moved to him quickly, her face flushed from the heat and her eyes brimming with worry. "I'm alright," Peter said softly as he came to stand before her. Cara gave a half-hearted nod.

"Pete," Edmund said quietly from under his arm. "You better keep smiling." Confused by the comment, both Cara and Peter followed Edmund's gaze, which was moving slowly over the people lining the front of the How. Understanding Edmund's intent, Peter raised Rhindon into the air and gave a shout of confidence. Unable to see the grimace of pain now sketched across Peter's features, the onlookers cheered in excitement.

"Peter, you should sit," Caspian said as he appeared suddenly with a small chair. Cara backed away to allow Edmund the room needed to help Peter lower himself into the chair.

"Cara?" Peter asked weakly as he situated himself. Hearing her name, the High Queen kneeled quickly before him. "I want you on Alvaro and inside the How," he said softly as he situated his shoulder.

"Bu—" she began to protest, but was instantly cut off.

"I do not think the Telmarines will keep their word," Peter stated simply. "I want you to lead the left charge, and Glenstorm," Peter continued as he glanced up at the General, "will lead the right." Cara rubbed the sweat from her brow and turned her gaze away from Peter. She could not decide if it was a blessing or a curse to not watch the end of the fight. "Cara," Peter added as he leaned close enough that only she could hear, "we'll get through this." Returning her gaze back to Peter, Cara nodded and pushed herself back to her feet.

"General, I will prepare the troops for attack. Stay beside your King until he orders you to me," she said with authority before jogging purposefully into the How. The General silently watched her go.

Glozelle's eyes were glued to Cara's fleeting shape when the voice of his King broke through his thoughts. "How does he look?" Miraz asked as he nodded towards Peter. Glozelle looked momentarily at Peter's weary form before pulling a long rag out of his bag and bending close to Miraz's wounded leg.

"Young," Sopespian responded. Glozelle smiled softly at the remark as he began to wrap the bandage tightly around Miraz's leg.

"But his Majesty is doing extremely well," Glozelle added offhandedly, "for his age." Miraz grimaced as Glozelle punctuated his words by pulling harshly against the bandage as he tied it off. Miraz frowned heavily at Glozelle before returning his gaze to Peter, who was now contorted in pain as Caspian eased his shield from his arm.

"I think it's dislocated," Peter said to Edmund once the wave of nausea ended. Edmund instantly came to Peter's side and began to examine his limp arm.

"Why did you send her away?" Edmund asked casually as his hands moved slowly over Peter's shoulder. Peter sighed deeply before lowering his head and voice.

"I don't want her to see me fail," he answered, causing Edmund to glance at him with concern. "What do you think happens back home," Peter continued solemnly, "if you die here?" Edmund looked at Peter in bewilderment. "You know," Peter stated as he found Edmund's worried eyes, "you've always been there and I never really thanked you. I want you to take care of the girls, and tell Cara that she started a fire in my he—" Peter's words were cut short as the sound of popping mixed with his cries of pain. Edmund rechecked that the arm was back in place before patting Peter awkwardly on the back.

"You can tell her yourself," he responded as he moved away leaving Peter grimacing on his chair. Caspian soon replaced Edmund as Peter attempted to rise from his feet, his arms supporting the ailing King from behind. Edmund returned quickly, Rhindon grasped tightly in his hands. With a comment of thanks to Caspian, Peter flexed his shoulders and grasped Rhindon by the hilt. The crowd behind him immediately broke into applause.

Peter walked wearily towards Miraz, his shoulder aching and his breathing ragged. Limping slightly, Miraz moved forward as well. No longer wearing his helmet, the pain was apparent on Miraz's face as he gathered his remaining bit of strength and lifted his sword into the air. Peter wasted no time. With a large grunt his face twisted into determination as he lunged towards his opponent. Miraz reacted instantly, throwing his weight against Peter in an onslaught of heavy blows. Their faces were no longer poised, but filled with the anger and pain that throbbed purposefully through their bodies.

Unable to keep his balance under the power of Miraz's force, Peter stumbled backwards, the top of his head brushing against a crumbled boulder. Determined to end the fight, Miraz attacked again, but Peter twisted his body quickly, the force causing Miraz's legs to buckle from beneath him. Lumbering back to his feet, Miraz turned just in time to be met with Peter's contorted face. Forgoing an attack, Peter latched onto Miraz's sword and ripped it from his hands. Tossing it to the side, Peter gripped Rhindon with both hands and swung with all of his remaining strength. Miraz crouched behind his shield, the power of Peter's blows jarring his shoulder into scorching pain.

Growing weary, Peter allowed Rhindon to slide just low enough that Miraz was able to catch the sword between his shield and his armor. With a perfectly angled tug Rhindon was pulled from Peter's grasp. Miraz dropped the sword behind him and flung the back of his hand towards Peter's face, the force causing Peter to cry out in pain. Refusing to slow his attacks, Miraz leaned into his shield as he rammed Peter. Feeling the air forced from his lungs, Peter gathered his remaining bit of strength and grasped the edges of Miraz's shield. His shoulders screamed in pain as he pushed the shield centimeters from his chest and held it at bay.

Face to face, the men continued to battle for control. Finding his strength waning, Peter gripped tighter to the shield and twisted his body. Miraz screamed in pain as Peter maneuvered behind him, the shield still clutched securely in hit hands. Unable to move his left arm, Miraz swung his right randomly at Peter, the assault knocking Peter backwards and freeing the shield. With Peter still reeling from the hit, Miraz latched on to his armor and tossed him towards the outside of the arena. Peter gasped as his hurt shoulder crunched into a boulder. His mind was foggy with fatigue and his limbs ached and trembled under his armor.

Peter could here Miraz approaching from behind. Defending his life, Peter rolled across the rock and onto the ground, Miraz's sword clinking down not a second behind. Filled with blind rage, Miraz fell onto Peter with his sword held high, but his attack was slow with fatigue, giving Peter the brief opportunity to shove him in the chest and push him into the air. As Miraz fumbled, Peter leaned forward and punched Miraz's still bleeding wound. Miraz cried in anguish as he reached to protect his leg.

"Respite," he pleaded repeatedly as Peter lunged forward with his fist held high. Wavering from the look in Miraz's face, Peter lowered his clenched hand and stepped back.

"Now's not the time for chivalry, Peter," Edmund reminded in a harsh tone. Peter looked to his brother before returning his eyes to Miraz, his arm falling limply to his side. With one last glance at his opponent, Peter slowly moved towards Edmund and Caspian, his back plainly to Miraz.

Lacking the courtliness of Peter, Miraz grabbed one of the fallen swords and gracelessly lunged. Peter turned instantly; his fingers find the hilt of Miraz's sword and tugging it easily from his fingers. With ill-fated timing, Miraz lurched forward as Peter fell to his knees, the sword sliding easily into Miraz's chest. Miraz's mouth fell open in surprise, the feeling of warm wet soaking his torso.

Ignoring the usual feeling of guilt that swelled instantly in Peter's chest every time he defeated a foe, Peter rose to his feet and pulled the sword cleaning from Miraz. The man winced, but displayed no other signs of pain. Consumed by pride, Miraz straightened his body and kneeled erectly before Peter. "What's the matter boy," he taunted when Peter refused to give the killing blow, "to cowardly to take a life?" Peter tightened his jaw and lowered his sword completely.

"It's not mine to take," he responded before turning towards Caspian and holding the sword to him. Caspian looked blankly between the sword and Miraz before stepping forward. His eyes never strayed from the tyrant kneeling at Peter's feet as he lifted the sword from Peter's outstretched hand. Peter moved away, stopping only to lift Rhindon from the ground before coming to stand beside Edmund. Both King's watched as Caspian aligned the sword with Miraz's throat.

"Perhaps I was wrong," Miraz said softly as he looked down the length of the sword. "Maybe you do have the makings of a Telmarine King after all." With one last look at the boy before him, Miraz lowered his head and awaited his death. Caspian yelled; a noise filled with anguish. He pulled the sword higher before forcing it downward into the stony ground. Miraz looked up slowly, his face covered in uncertainty.

"Not one like you," Caspian whispered as he leaned forward. "Keep your life," he explained as his pushed himself away from Miraz, "but I am giving the Narnians back their kingdom." Miraz looked away from Caspian, his eyes downcast and tired. With one final glance at the mass of Lord's standing behind their fallen leader, Caspian turned back towards Peter and Edmund, loud applause erupting instantly from his new people.

Glozelle watched the display of mercy, his heart swelling with pride for his future King. The moment broke when Sopespian slapped Glozelle harshly on the back and stepped into the arena. The General watched as Sopespian lowered himself before Miraz.

"My King," the Lord said gently as he wrapped his arms around Miraz's torso and lifted him from the ground.

"I'll deal with you when this is over," Miraz responded as he held the smaller man tightly to his chest, his voice gruff and filled with hate.

"It is over," Sopespian sneered as Miraz cried out in pain, an arrow shoved securely under his ribcage.

Glozelle watched with wide eyes as Miraz stumbled away from Sopespian and fell to his knees, a red tipped arrow sticking distinctly from his side. Not waiting to see his King die, Glozelle reached for his horse and jumped easily onto its back. "Treachery! Treachery!" Sopespian called frantically from behind him. "They shot him! They murdered our King!"

Peter turned quickly and pointed to his archers. "Be ready," he called before looking towards his General. "Glenstorn, go to Cara. Wait for the signal." Nodding, the centaur entered into a gallop and disappeared into the How.

"Peter!" Caspian suddenly yelled as he pointed behind the High King. Peter moved quickly, the man attempting to attack him crumbling to the ground as Rhindon sliced easily through his neck.

BBBBBB

Cara knew something had happened, for Alvaro's body tightened beneath her as his ears pricked forward and his tail swished in anticipation. Behind her stood the majority of Narnia's soldiers, all filled with the buzz of anxiety and excitement as they clutched large clubs and thick tree limbs

Without warning a rumble rocketed through the chamber with a force that shook the stone walls around them. Dust sprung into the air and floated onto the armor and faces of the troops. Moments later the thunder repeated, but closer and deeper, the noise making Alvaro lean heavily on his haunches and shake his mane with nervous enthusiasm.

"Steady," Cara called to the troops behind her, their restlessness becoming apparent as the room continued to shake with each new blow. Cara's heart began to pound painfully within her chest. Had Peter lost?

"My lady," Glenstorm called as he rounded a corner and came into sight, his sudden appearance shaking Cara from her thoughts. "It has begun," he stated as he skidded to a halt before her. Cara nodded in understanding before Glenstorm jumped back into a gallop and moved along the line of troops to lead the right charge. The tension in the chamber mounted as the walls continued to shake from pressure of the attack above.

"Come on," Cara whispered to herself as Alvaro continued to tremble beneath her. Slowly it came; a mounting rumble that flowed through the ground like a wave, the noise growing steadily louder the closer it came. The Telmarine cavalry was charging.

"Narnians!" Cara yelled once the sound was clear and consistent. "Charge!"


	22. Hope is Sometimes Enough

Chapter 21

Hope is Sometimes Enough

Although Peter's posture displayed nothing but confidence, his ragged breathing and sweating brow illustrated the truth. Before him the Telmarine cavalry was charging, the sheer mass of their steed's hooves creating a thunder that reverberated under Peter's feet.

Attempting to quell his fears, Peter forced his eyes forward and Rhindon securely between his fingers. Edmund seemed to be fighting the same battle, for his eyes twitched reverently over the mass rolling through the grass-filled planes of the valley. The soldier's faces were covered with the same frozen sneer are Miraz's, but the color was silver and blinding in the mid-day light.

Peter straightened as the sound of a horn blew through the rocky depths of the How. It was deep and muted, but Peter still heard it clear as day. There was no turning back now. "One," Peter whispered softly to himself as his eyes shut briefly in an attempt to visualize Cara leading their troops purposefully through the lowest chamber of the How.

"Two." Cara's brow was furled into a hardened scowl as Alvaro weaved his way around the shaking pillars that supported the valley above. Dust floated heavily in the air, the walls and ceiling trembling dangerously around her.

"Three," Trumpkin said steadily to himself as he glanced at the valley below. He stood proud atop the How with a random array of Narnian archers. The time was nearly upon them. "Archers to the ready," he commanded as he fitted his bow with an arrow and fixed it towards the sky.

"Four." Adrenaline had forced all fear from Peter's body as he counted the seconds steadily off. He wanted to speed up time. The numbers fell too slowly from his lips.

"Five more seconds and those savages will have no hope," Sopespian quipped as his horse skidded to a stop beside Glozelle. The General said nothing, for his heart did not harbor the same blind confidence. Truly, Glozelle's judgment was no longer shrouded with the suffocating greed and hate that lay thickly over Sopespian's skin. That blanket had long been lifted, its absence causing Glozelle's body to shiver and breathe with the power of reality.

Sopespian continued to talk, but Glozelle paid little attention to the perfidious man, for his mind was focused on the pending battle and the valley before him that was steadily beginning to blur. Moving his eyes from the backs of his men, Glozelle looked to Peter. The young King stood erect and proud in the middle of the arena. He was unmoving. Unworried. Glozelle frowned.

The boy knew something he didn't.

"Eight." Peter's entire body stiffened as he pushed the word past his lips. Two more seconds. Time had all but stopped.

_Nine_. Cara thought the number, her mind too focused on what was to come to speak anything but the final command. The moment was upon them. Never before had Cara's body filled with such a suffocating rush. She knew not what awaited her beyond this moment. The plan could be folly—the valley crumbling too quickly and landing upon them—or it could be as seamless and well timed as Peter had hoped.

Filling her lungs with air, the High Queen opened her lips and refused to feel anything but determination and power. Only survival mattered. Only victory.

"Now!"

It happened immediately. The Narnian troops moved as one solid mass of destruction as they battered the already wavering pillars that hindered their course and signified their past. Both needed to be destroyed. It was time to move forward. It was time to disregard all restraints.

Giants rammed the walls while centaurs and minotaurs swung clubs and stumps. Dust filled the air with such thickness that breathing and seeing became practically unfeasible. The ceiling rumbled as its support was swept away like grains of sand caught in rushing water, while the dim light of the torches flickered and died under the heap of rocks and dirt that broke from the walls and fell upon them.

Soon darkness surrounded them, but it caused no fear, for above small flickers of light slowly began to filter through the ground that was collapsing under the weight of the Telmarine cavalry. It did not happen at once, but began slowly with one horse screaming when it slipped through the ground and disappeared.

Glozelle felt the shriek before he heard it, his horse becoming rigid beneath him. Filling with apprehension, his eyes scanned the backs of his men as they suddenly began to vanish. More screams floated through the air as the ground rapidly split apart and swallowed half of the Telmarine cavalry in one hungry gulp.

Sopespian huffed in disbelief, his mouth hanging open and his arms tense as he attempted to control the terrified horse under him. Glozelle continued to stare steadily ahead, the movement and yells before him adding to the confusion while the remaining soldiers attempted to keep their steeds from the sinking ground. His cavalry was now nothing more than stagnant targets.

"Aim," Trumpkin shouted as he pulled his bow back tightly and steadied him arm. "Fire!" The sky was instantly filled with red tipped arrows. Glozelle's cavalry continued to scramble from the gaping hole that sprung to life beneath them, their minds and eyes focused on escaping the ground and not the sky.

Few noticed the arrows before they hit, but when they came, the air filled with screams and gurgles as the sky unexpectedly turned more dangerous than the ground. It was instant chaos. No longer trying to free themselves from the hole, the Telmarines that remained alive attempted to shelter their bodies as they fell from their horses and slipped into the earth. Confused by the crumbling ground and piercing sky, the horses leapt and reared and climbed in an attempt to free themselves from the fear and pain that consumed them.

"Charge!" Peter shouted after the last of the arrows landed. All Narnian troops jumped forward at the command, their weapons held high and their voices wild. Moving quickly, Edmund left Peter's side and grabbed a Telmarine horse that had managed to find its way to freedom. He leapt gracefully upon its back before pushing past Peter and into the thick of the fight.

Watching as Edmund and his soldiers disappeared into mass of moving bodies, Peter jumped onto a boulder and glanced as far across the valley as he could, his eyes waiting for Alvaro and his rider to rise from the earth.

The dwarves heard the troop coming long before it rounded the last corner of the How and came into sight. Cara nodded her head as they released a lever allowing a large, hidden ramp to swing down from the ceiling and touch the ground. Alvaro cantered up it easily, his head swinging in excitement as the bright sun bounced off his neck and clean air graced his lungs. Filled with the same rush, Cara pulled her sword from its sheath and shoved it high in the air. Her voice rang out in a battle cry as Alvaro turned sharply from the ramp and towards the center of the valley.

Peter heard Cara's sharp voice immediately, his body feeling renewed when another shock of adrenaline rushed through his limbs. Leaping from the bolder, Peter joined his people. Rhindon glinted red in the sun and slashed easily through any Telmarine that dared approach his master.

Protecting Peter's back, the Bulgy Bear tore and flung any Telmarine that swayed into his grasp. Tigers and panthers growled and lunged, while giants and minotaurs shoved and bashed. Edmund and Caspian edged along the gapping hole and shot or stabbed any man that attempted to rise from its clutches. Alvaro moved easily through the chaos, his rider slicing down all that she could reach, while Glenstorm and his sons pushed against the trapped Telmarines, forcing them closer together and nearer to the opening in the earth.

"Do something!" Sopespian looked to Glozelle with wild eyes. The scene before him spelled utter failure for the Telmarines, but in truth, the majority of their army stood idle awaiting a command from their Lords. "General." Glozelle still refused to acknowledge Sopespian, his eyes squinting into the sun as he watched the creatures of Narnia fight passionately for what inherently belonged to them. As his gaze caught sight of young Caspian, Glozelle felt the faint tendrils of gilt weaving their way through the edges of his mind.

Gilt for attempting without the faintest hint of reluctance to murder the true King of Narnia. Gilt for using the term _savage _to describe the fearless people before him. Gilt for wasting the majority of his life fighting for something that never mattered. But Glozelle's true gilt came when he realized that he felt no sorrow for the lives of his men that were now lost.

"If you will not lead your men, than I will." Sopespian's bitter words cut into Glozelle's thoughts.

Finally, the General turned. "They are no longer my men," he responded coolly before spurring his horse forward. Sopespian watched with a look of disgust as Glozelle's silhouette disappeared into the sun. "Weak." He spit the word out before turning his horse harshly towards the army at his heels. The men before him stared blankly ahead; fine tuned machines that knew nothing beyond obeying orders.

"Soldiers," Sopespian commanded as he spun back around with his sword twisting in the air, "attack!"

Glozelle kept his eyes locked on Cara as he rode swiftly towards her. He felt free and invigorated, yet terrified and foolish. The Narnians were vastly outnumbered, and their unwavering hope dangled from a thread that he had yet to grasp, but the woman locked in his gaze had captured his heart in a way that he could no longer deny. It was not love, or lust, or devotion, but something deep and pious.

She had saved him, and in return, he would fight to save her.

Cara pulled Alvaro to a stop at the rhythmic sound of heavy marching. Her heart skipped when her eyes caught sight of the sea of silver moving steadily towards them. Thousands of soldiers marched slow and calculated, the outer bands of men stretching themselves further with each step creating a perfect semicircle around their opponents.

Soon, they were going to be the ones trapped.

"Peter," Cara whispered breathlessly, her mind suddenly recalling that she had not yet seen him. Was she alone in this? Cara looked frantically from side to side, her eyes stopping every time she saw a flit of red. The battle surrounding her was now chaotic. She saw nothing but movement and felt nothing but complete entrapment.

And then she saw him.

He was still far off, but his golden hair glinted like a beacon of hope. Cara's heart pounded with renewed vigor as she watched Peter kill with no fear and no regret. For a moment the chaos slowed and the approaching danger seemed like nothing more than a bad dream.

But the moment ended just as quickly as it came.

Cara barely had time to scream as two hands ripped her from Alvaro and flung her heavily to the ground. Alvaro danced awkwardly away from the commotion, his agile legs attempting to miss his Queen. Scrambling forward, Cara's hands roamed frantically along the ground for her sword. She felt the blade, cold and hard between the tips of her fingers, but it was kicked away before she could fully grasp it. Calloused hands instantly wrapped themselves around her neck and into her hair, causing Cara to wince as she was heaved from the ground. Forgetting about the other weapons hidden on her person, Cara's hands went immediately to her head, her nails clawing at her opponent in an attempt to free herself.

He laughed in response and spun her around to look at him. Cara looked defiantly into his yellow-rimmed eyes before hawking her head back and, without any sense of propriety, spit into his face. The action caused her attacker to falter for a second, a look of bafflement sketched across his features.

The moment was brief, but it allowed Cara time to wiggle back from his grasp and kick him ruthlessly in the knee. He cried in pain as his leg buckled beneath him, forcing both he and Cara back to the ground. Still clutched between his fingers, Cara scratched and punched his face, her knuckles quickly becoming bruised and raw.

"Bloody harpy," he said between clenched teeth as his knee struck Cara in the stomach. She gagged as air fled from her lungs and bile rose to her throat. Sputtering, Cara coiled around the pain. Without warning his knee came forward again, this time connecting with her jaw. Warm wetness flowed down her chin upon contact, her lip burning where it was cleaning split in two. Ignoring the pain, Cara struck out, her nails grazing dangerously close to her attacker's eyes. Attempting to control her, the man's grip tightened on Cara's hair, small portions of her scalp loosening under the pressure. Cara's face contorted in agony as her hands once again reached for her hair.

And then it stopped.

With ragged breathes, Cara pushed herself away from the man and untangled his fingers from her hair. Small, black clumps remained in his grasp. Still unnerved, Cara pulled a forgotten dagger from her belt and turned back towards the man, her posture matching that of a cornered dog. She relaxed when her opponent didn't move, his eyes staring blankly into the sky and his arms haphazardly at his side. Confused, Cara looked up.

Glozelle's sword was still stuck precariously into the back of one of his soldiers when he stepped lightly over the man and kneeled beside the woman he had saved. Cara looked at him with a slack jaw and blank eyes, the blood from her lip disappearing as it dripped lightly onto her dress.

"We have to find your King." Glozelle lifted Cara delicately from the ground before turning the soldier onto his stomach and pulling his sword unceremoniously from his back.

"You have." Cara had barely moved from the ground when Rhindon shot out from behind her and stopped dangerously close to Glozelle's neck. Feeling the cool blade, Glozelle turned carefully towards Peter.

"Peter don—"

"Drop your sword," Peter commanded, his words cutting over Cara's protest. Cara frowned as she pushed herself from the ground and shoved Rhindon away from Glozelle's neck. Peter looked at her incredulously.

"We don't have time for this," Cara stated as she glared defiantly at Peter before casting her gaze toward the Telmarine army that was now nearly upon them. Peter gave Glozelle one last hardened look before reaching for Cara and pulling her protectively against his chest. Cara tucked her chin into his neck for a brief moment, the blood on her chin smearing across his armor.

Ending the moment, Peter stepped away from his Queen and looked wearily at the approaching mass. Seeming to reach a conclusion, he turned quickly to the How and waved Rhindon high in the air. Moments later the sky became flickered with black as a group of griffons launched themselves into the air. Some carried massive boulders while others clutched arrow laden dwarves between their talons.

Glozelle watched the group of terrifying half eagle—half lion creatures as they swooped and soared across the valley and towards the Telmarine army. Boulders tossed by the catapults cluttered the sky, but the griffons weaved between them with ease. "They will accomplish nothing," Glozelle said to Peter in a tense voice. "Look."

Peter followed Glozelle's hand as it pointed into the sky, his breath catching in his throat as a harpoon shot from amongst the marching army and pierced the wing of a griffon. The creature screamed; a noise caught between the sharp cry of an eagle and the guttural whimper of a beast. Cara clutched Peter's arm while the griffon crashed towards the ground and rolled into the first line of Telmarine troops.

More harpoons instantly shot into the air, their speed and shape making them far harder for the griffon's to escape. Clusters of fur and feathers littered the ground, the Telmarine army moving forward over the still warm carcasses without a glance. Peter watched the shattering scene silently. He had nothing left. No hidden army. No tactical surprises. All that mattered now was keeping what was left of his people alive. After casting one last glance over the approaching force, Peter flung his arm over Cara's shoulder and ushered her towards Alvaro. As Cara maneuvered onto Alvaro's back, Peter turned his attention to Glozelle.

"Get her out of here." Glozelle nodded at the command and grabbed hold of his steed's reins.

"Peter?" Cara questioned in a hesitant voice, her eyes wandering between her King and the General. Peter returned his attention to Cara, his hands reaching up suddenly and pulling her towards him. Cara barely had time to close her eyes before Peter's lips crashed into hers. With his eyes still closed, Peter pulled his lips away and rested his forehead briefly against Cara's.

Just as Cara began to grasp the intimate moment, Peter pulled away and turned his gaze to Glozelle. "If anything happens to her, I'll kill you." The statement was simple, and far harsher than anything that usually fell from Peter's lips, but Glozelle seemed undeterred by it.

"Of course," Glozelle responded before bounding gracefully onto his horse's back. Having reached an understanding, both men turned away from each other and looked to Cara.

"Get back to the How," Peter ordered in a cool, even tone.

"What about you?" Cara questioned, her voice strained as she looked nervously at Peter.

"I'll be behind you. Now go!"

Sensing the tension, Alvaro began to dance beneath Cara, but she still refused leave Peter's side. "Go!" Peter ordered again before turning away from his Queen and fading into the sea of moving bodies. With one last look at Peter, Cara conceded and allowed Alvaro to bound forward.

Peter's voice instantly rang out above the sounds of clashing weapons and marching men. "Back to the How!" The fighting ceased at Peter's command, his troops glancing quickly at the approaching army before turning towards the How. Glozelle felt the shift around him; he and Cara where no longer maneuvering around the commotion, but moving with it.

Seeing his quarry fleeing before him, Sopespian turned his horse from the frontline and galloped towards the catapults. "Don't let them escape," he called as his horse skidded to a stop and spun. "Bring it down!"

Those closest to the How were nearly inside when the Telmarine catapults began to bare down upon the stone mass that long served as a sanctuary and home. Large chucks of rock splintered into the air, the noise reminding Peter of his terrifying experiences during the raid on London. He once again stood helpless, more of his people dieing from the stone fragments, sharper and stronger than arrows that littered the sky after each explosion. At a loss of what else to do, Peter looked frantically around him for the massive form of Wimbleweather. The catapults had to be destroyed.

"Stop!" Cara glanced over her shoulder at the sound of Glozelle's voice, her thighs squeezing in an attempt to slow Alvaro's steady gallop. "It will collapse," he continued once his horse reached Alvaro's side. Cara moved her gaze back to the How. The sides were crumbling away under the power of each new blow, while the trees masking it were shredded or fallen. The General was right. The How was only moments away from complete ruin.

Under the onslaught of stone fragments, only a few Narnian's had actually reached the entrance to the How, but their quick feet had not led them to safety. The finishing blow did not hit directly, but ricocheted of the side of the arena and landed feet above the entrance. The boulder paused for a moment, the How too weak to have destroyed it upon impact, but then a rumble came.

The How's walls cracked suddenly, the noise making both Alvaro and the steed carrying Glozelle skitter sideways. A moment later the sky filled with dust and debris as the killing boulder disappeared within, the entrance to the How falling with it. Cara watched in horror as Trumpkin and his troop of bowman skidded down the ruble, their calls of fright shrouded by the sounds of falling rock.

Utter silence followed. All that remained of Old Narnia glanced between one another with hopeless eyes and tense shoulders. Edmund, who now stood proudly beside Peter, stepped forward and held his sword high in the air. "For Narnia!" he called. "For High King Peter! For Aslan!" Cheers did not erupt, but hands clasped weapons with renewed authority and eyes turned towards the Telmarine troops that were now upon them. There was only one option left.

Fight.

BBBBBB

Susan was sure the moving vines where taking them to Beruna, but she couldn't guess why. The sun was now high, and would have caused her brow to moisten with sweat had the thickness of the tree people not covered it almost entirely. Around her the romp continued with vigor. Animals—the non speaking sort—had also joined into the fray, but they seemed elated by the commotion and had caused shouts of joy instead of alarm.

Silenus—that is—the _large_ man riding the donkey, was fast asleep in the arms of a willow woman, her long tresses blowing slowly away from his face as he breathed and hiccupped in his sleep. His mount, quite oppositely, was dancing merrily about as a few of Bacchus' wild girls poured deep red wine down his throat. _What debauchery _Susan thought to herself.

Presently Lucy, who was sitting quite comfortably between the paws of a rather massive bear, was attempting to re-teach him how to speak. Susan had explained to her that he had probably _never_ spoken, but the young Queen would have none of it, and per usual, had only cast a small smirk Susan's way when the bear growled her name. He spent far too much time pronouncing the _u _and far too little time pronouncing anything else, but it warranted a rather large round of applause from Lucy. Susan managed to mask her smile, but it took a great deal of effort and lasted only a short period of time.

"Do get him to say my name," she finally relinquished, her delicate feet carrying her instantly to Lucy's side.

"I don't know if he is quite ready for that," Lucy responded, but began her teachings nonetheless.

By the time the party had reached a small town on the outskirts of Beruna, the bear had nearly mastered both of the Queen's names. He often became stuck at the end of Susan's name, obviously quite unsure how to come off of the _n_, but Susan still believed it to be the most beautiful her name had ever sounded, and was about to tell him so when the hums of screaming stole her words.

"By, Aslan," Lucy said as she peered through the mass of branches surrounding her. "We seem to be in a town, and the people do not seem to be happy about it."

"Truly?" Susan questioned as she pushed the leafy beard of an oak man out of the way. "Spot on Lu—but—oh look!" Lucy did as her sister requested and glanced once again out of the thick wood.

"Some are joining us!" she cried with excitement, and it was as she said. Although most fled into their houses and peeked awkwardly through their windows, a few—mostly children—were leaving their lessons and cheering as they joined the romp.

"I do hope that wild boy doesn't give them wine," Susan said worriedly as she watched the newcomers dancing wildly with Bacchus and his girls.

Once they had cleared the town, they were an even larger and merrier bunch. Susan was busying herself with keeping the children from _too _much fun, while Lucy was encouraging just the opposite. Finding that no one was taking her seriously, Susan plopped down heavily and took a goblet of gold from the still sleeping form of Silenus. She stared critically at the deep red liquid before shrugging her shoulders and touching the goblet to her lips. It was sweeter than she ever recalled the wine in Narnia being, and downed it only two or three massive gulps. As most do after filling themselves with such a rich drink, Susan hiccupped. Blushing a red near as deep as the wine, she covered her mouth and glanced quickly around. Seeing that her uncivilized moment went completely unnoticed, Susan smiled softly to herself and grabbed another goblet of wine.

Propriety be damned.

Not ten minutes later Susan was sipping merrily on her third glass, her cheeks flushed and her lips stained. "Oh Susan," Lucy giggled as she fell beside her. "Do look. We are in the countryside now. Even more creatures have joined us." Once again it was as Lucy said. Old, tired donkeys brayed with new enthusiasm as they broke away from their pastures and joined Aslan's side. Horses and cows followed as well, the mud from their hooves shooting into the air as they bucked and cantered along.

Wobbling slightly, Susan rose from the ground and ran joyously from the trees with Lucy. The two danced and sang and drank as Aslan led them into another small town not far from Beaversdamn. They came first upon an old schoolhouse, which was currently occupied by a tired-looking girl and an array of boys that looked more pig than human. "Dear Heart," Aslan said as he looked to the girl through the window.

"Oh, don't, don't," she replied as she glanced away from Aslan. "I'd love to, but I mustn't."

"Mustn't what?" one of the pig-like boys commented as he peered out the window, and upon seeing Aslan, fumbled backwards over a desk and ran into the forest screaming. Soon the remaining boys followed, and although it is not absolutely certain, it is said that they were never seen again.

"Now, Dear Heart," Aslan said to the Mistress. With a shout of complete joy, she jumped out of the window and joined them.

It was in this way—dancing and singing and drinking—that Aslan led his followers to the Bridge at Beruna, where he turned to the trees and commanded them to aid their High King. Susan and Lucy watched as the tree people suddenly looked less like people and more like trees, their statures growing tremendously as their twisted branches became hard.

"I'm quite happy I'm not a Telmarine at the moment," Lucy whispered offhandedly to Susan.

The older Queen merely hiccupped in response.

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Whimbleweather fumbled haphazardly forward as he followed Peter's wishes and led all the remaining giants through the throngs of Telmarine soldiers and to the catapults. Behind him the How had long been destroyed, but he was so focused on his task that he had not heard Peter's shouts of protest as he pushed away from the thick of the battle and towards his destination. Although fear was apparent in the eyes of the Telmarines, they still assaulted him with arrows and attempted to tangle his feet with ropes. Because of this, his trip towards the catapults had been long and laborious, but he smiled dumbly as he finally came upon them.

Just as Whimbleweather raised his club into the air, moving roots shot up from the ground and wrapped tightly around the wooden machine before him. He stepped back with a looked of bewilderment and a guttural grunt. Then, quite suddenly, the machines buckled under the pressure and splintered into the air.

Dropping his club in confusion, Whimbleweather looked around. It seemed that all of his giant companions were in much the same predicament. The moment didn't last long, for the forest behind the Telmarines suddenly began to move. Branches swept out and grasped hold of any Telmarine they could reach, while roots rippled across the ground and knocked all that attempted to run from their feet.

Old Narnians looked to one another in astonishment before erupting into cheers so loud that they drowned out the screams of fear coming from the Telmarines. Cara stood protectively beside Glozelle, but it truly was not needed, for the trees seemed to know who was an enemy and who was not.

"For Aslan!" Peter suddenly called out as a horn of retreat sounded from across the valley. All of Old Narnia followed after him, their faces gleaming as they chased the remaining Telmarines from the valley and towards the Bridge of Beruna.

Sopespian reached the bridge first, his horse rearing upon seeing the lone figure of a lion standing calmly on the other side. Around him his soldiers were slowly entering the quiet waters of Beruna, their fear of the trees driving them forward no matter what. Aslan sat on his haunches and waited patiently for Sopespian to ease his horse forward over the bridge. Seeing the lion do nothing, the Lord shoved his sword in the air. "Charge!"

Those that remained on horseback lunged forward and cantered bravely across the bridge, their voices angry as they shouted a battle cry. Aslan slowly rose back to his feet and sucked in a deep breath of air. His roar came deep and threatening as it washed across the land and stilled the hearts of his enemies. Beruna churned instantly, the water gaining speed and fury as it rushed past.

Sopespian's horse stopped immediately, its breathing ragged and apparent between his rider's legs. He moved to urge the horse forward when yells sounded behind him. Glancing over his shoulder he noticed the reason for alarm. Not far off a wall of water was growing as it charged towards the bridge. Filled with panic, Sopespian turned his horse and sped from the bridge.

But it was to no avail, for the wall of water was now upon them. Expecting a bone shattering impact Sopespian rounded his shoulders and hid is head. When an impact did not come, Sopespian peered shyly over his shoulder. A great man was now before them, his limbs and body and hair carved from the water and always moving.

The River God had awakened.

He lunged towards the bridge and looked upon it with glassy eyes. Telmarines dove and leapt into the rushing water, their hearts completely overcome with fear. Suddenly the man disappeared, his watery head and shoulders moving swiftly under the bridge.

Then it cracked. The bridge was no longer feet above Beruna, but yards. The edges shattered and fell as the River God tossed his watery hair over his shoulder and looked back at the hindering contraption clutched between his fingers. Sopespian remained bravely upon his horse, his black eyes staring back into those of the watery beast. He knew death was coming.

The mass of water regarded Sopespian silently before opening his bottomless mouth and devouring the Lord and his steed. Sopespian screamed and covered his head while the bridge shattered completely beneath him. Losing his shape, the River God once again became the quiet water of Beruna.

Silence followed, both Telmarines and Narnians looking quietly between each other. What was to come now? Was it over?

Interrupting the stillness, Sopespian's steed exploded from the water with a shrill whinny and thrashing hooves. After gaining his footing on the slippery rocks below, he calmed his body and walked steadily from the water.

Sopespian was nowhere to be seen.

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_I don't know why but this chapter was a beast to write! Well, now it is finis and I can move on to the moments I've been waiting for. I'm thinking that there is about four or five chapters left in this story…maybe less depending on how detailed I go. OH! Chapter 19 might possibly hold a little line or two that may foreshadow what could happen in the future. Just saying. _

_Anywho. Please review _


	23. Stars and Midnight Blue

Chapter 22

Stars and Midnight Blue

It was coming on evening when the remnants of war were finally cleaned from the valley. Fires flickered in the fading light, their brightness becoming more apparent as the sun continued her descent, while the billowing limbs of the tree people cast massive shadows that slowly receded. Although the rich music and laughter of Bacchus and his followers had quieted for a short period of time, the soft hum of a few faint instruments conveyed that it was not long before the party was to begin again.

Peter sat comfortably with the majority of his male companions, including Glozelle, with a half-sipped goblet of wine clutched loosely against his palm. Edmund was currently telling a story with a remarkable amount of enthusiasm, which, Peter guessed, was the product of the red liquid that his brother had repeatedly tossed down his throat. The High King laughed along with the others when appropriate, his amusement coming more from Edmund's expressive movements than the actual story.

Truly Peter's mind was far from his body's current location. It strayed instead to the happenings of the day. His duel with Miraz and the intertwined feelings of fear and hope that had accompanied it; kneeling before Aslan with Rhindon beside him and his heart in his throat; opening his arms wide for Susan and Lucy to crash into when they rushed from the forest with laughter akin to pure happiness. But the memory he replayed the most was short and breathtakingly simple.

It was Cara's smile. Her lip bloodied and tattered and her chin still crusted with red. Neither of which seemed to dim the enchantment that one look from her could place upon Peter. She had blushed under the heat of his gaze, her face disappearing behind her dark tresses as she turned away and ran to join Susan and Lucy for rest and a bathe. Peter stared at the spot where she stood only moments prior, his mind perfectly content to replay the vision repeatedly.

But alas, duty called. This time in the form of Edmund as he tapped Peter on the shoulder and ushered him back to the battlefield that was cluttered with debris and death. Peter felt weary as he looked at the task before him, but it was a feeling that dissipated when he joined his people and wordlessly began working.

More Telmarines stayed behind to help than he ever anticipated, the groups gathered and orchestrated by Glozelle. At first the Narnians looked at the group of dark, gruff men with apprehension, but Peter's quiet acceptance seemed to quell most fears, and soon both Old and New Narnia labored together accompanied by the occasional smile or laugh.

Those hours moved by quickly, and soon Silenus began another chant of _Refreshments! Refreshments!_ that coaxed the entire remaining party towards the fires and food. It was in this way that Peter found himself at his present location, with Edmund pausing his story to take another gulp of wine and the fire crackling beguilingly before him.

The feeling shifted suddenly as Susan stepped into sight. Peter glanced away from the fire and laughed inwardly as Edmund gulped down the remaining liquid clutched between his lips and looked sheepishly up at his older sister. A small dribble of wine lazily fell down his chin as the two regarded each other. Susan allowed the tension to mount before laughing unexpectedly and taking Edmund's empty goblet swiftly from his fingers. "I believe you are out, dear brother," she said as she cocked an eyebrow and glanced into the goblet. "A refill?" she inquired as her gaze returned to his.

"If you insist…" Edmund questioned more than stated.

"I insist." Susan plopped down beside Edmund and placed the goblet back in his hand. "And, Ed," she continued when he rose on wobbly legs. "Get me a glass too?" The group immediately erupted into laughter, all giddy from the turn of events and the red liquid that was the current topic of conversation.

Muttering through his laughter, Edmund left the group in search of Silenus and his endless supply of drink. Truly the man was not hard to find, for he sang loudly and was followed by a slew of wild dancing women. They wore dresses of leaves and berries that covered only what was necessary, while their hair of light and dark hung freely atop their shoulders.

It was because of these women that Edmund never made it back to the fire. He tried. Honestly. For at least a solid ten seconds he tried, but when one of the girls tugged him into a dance and placed plump grapes against his lips, he found himself powerless against her and reluctantly—he assured everyone sometime later that it _was _reluctantly—gave in.

Cara came upon Edmund shortly after, his body swaying drunkenly to the music that now filled the night air. "Cara," he called happily upon seeing her. "Come join the romp." Cara laughed as Edmund danced wildly towards her with his arms entangled with those of a light haired girl.

"I don't think I'm ready for all that," Cara responded.

"Nonsense!" Cara had little time to react when Edmund suddenly wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her against him and his companion.

"Edmund," Cara reprimanded as she lost her footing and stumbled forward, Edmund's strong arm the only barrier between her and the ground. Although the trios' dance began gracelessly, Cara's shouts of protest turned into laughter as her steps fell into time with theirs. Soon the music reached a dizzying pace, and with a sharp sound of glee Cara spun out of Edmund's grasp and fell to the ground in exhaustion. Laughing, Edmund joined her.

"Where is Peter?" Cara questioned once the earth stopped spinning and their mirth quieted. Edmund groaned in response and rubbed his eyes. After a moment of silence Cara rolled onto Edmund's chest and glanced at his face. "Ed…"

"Hmmm…?" Edmund cocked his head and smiled a lopsided grin.

"Peter?" Cara repeated.

"Oh, I don't know. By the fire." With a wild gesture, Edmund pointed haphazardly behind him. Cara followed the line of his hand as she pushed herself from the ground and shook out her skirts.

"Will you be joining me, then?" she questioned.

"No," Edmund responded with a sigh, his back still flat upon the ground. "There is a fair-haired beauty that beckons me."

"I see." Cara hid her laughter behind the back of her hand and glanced down at the young King. She observed him for a moment longer before nodding a goodbye and continuing her search for Peter. The hum of the music dulled the further she walked, the feral dance becoming nothing more than a faint blur of movement and sound. Many of her people acknowledged her with nods and bows as she moved through the crowds. Cara graciously stopped to speak with them, each time saying a word of thanks or offering a kind regard.

Peter's eyes were drawn to Cara the moment she came into view. Her dark hair fell down her back with no constraint, while her dress of midnight blue glided down the contours of her figure and fluttered around her feet. He stared openly, his mind no longer focused on the noises of laughter and talk that surrounded him.

"Pete?" the sound of his name falling repeatedly from Lucy's lips caused Peter to jolt suddenly and look down. The petite Queen sat between his legs with a look of slight annoyance. "Did you not hear what I said?" she questioned.

Nodding sheepishly, Peter caught one last glimpse of Cara before granting Lucy his full attention. Catching her brother's shifting eyes, Lucy looked around in an attempt to locate what had so wholly caught Peter's interest only moments prior. Seeing the High Queen, Lucy smiled.

"Cara!" Lucy called excitedly causing the woman in question to look over from the centaur she was speaking to. After offering one last word of thanks, Cara turned away from the centaur and towards Lucy and Peter. Although the Valiant Queen was beaming up at her, Cara's eyes instantly found Peter's. It was only a moment; enough time to bid a silent hello that meant more than either of them could understand.

"Do sit next to us," Lucy continued once Cara had made her way around the fire and was standing before them. Peter offered Cara his hand as she eased herself onto the ground, his fingers staying intertwined with hers even after she was situated and comfortable.

Susan sat beside Peter, her face glowing with laughter at something Trumpkin had said, while Caspian and Glozelle looked on in amusement. Cara paid them little attention; her mind now focused on the feel of Peter's thumb as is drew lazy circles over the back of her hand. She felt delicate beside him now. She was no longer a warrior; no longer a leader of any kind; just the woman whose slender, soft fingers fit perfectly between Peter's rough, calloused ones. Cara slowly fell into a reverie, her eyes staring unfocused at the flames that flickered in cool oranges and reds, and her mind blissfully unaware of anything outside of Peter.

Gradually her head moved to Peter's shoulder, his fingers unconsciously moving from hers as he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her tightly to his side. "You all right?" he whispered into her hair, the question jolting Cara from her quiet, self-induced world.

"Yes." Her voice was raspy, but gave no other signs of displeasure. "I'm perfectly contented." Peter kissed Cara's forehead before turning his attention back to the current topic of conversation, which after Susan questioned quite suddenly as to the whereabouts of her brother, had turned into a jumble of ideas attempting to answer that very inquiry.

Glozelle began the assessment by speculating that the young King was fast asleep somewhere, while Susan opposed with a quick response of, "no, no, no. I would gamb—"

"You, gamble?" Peter questioned with a laugh.

"Don't interrupt, Peter," the Gentle Queen scolded before continuing. "I would gamble that my good brother has situated himself in such a location that he does not have to rise to reach for another drink, but can simply place his head under the container and let it drip into his mouth." An awkward silence followed, each member of the small party attempting to find something to occupy themselves while they mulled over Susan's extensive explanation.

"That was far too many words," Glozelle finally commented causing Caspian to choke on his drink as he attempted to laugh. Susan looked at both in disgust.

"Our brother is not a souse," Peter added as Glozelle patted Caspian harshly on the back.

"What's a _souse_?" Lucy inquired sleepily from the crook of Peter's arm, her small voice going unnoticed.

"Well what do you _gamble_ he is doing then?" Susan retorted, the reflection from the fire making her wide eyes glow angrily.

"I judge that he has corned some poor, unsuspecting, sap and is discussing something political or militaristic." At Peter's words Susan turned her attention to the fire with a look of dejection.

"He is dancing," Cara interjected once her focus finally came to. The entire company immediately fell into a moment of awkward silence. Peter and Susan were—for lack of a better word—stunned, while Caspian and Glozelle were contemplating the oddity of their sudden response.

"But Ed doesn't dance," Peter finally countered with a look of skepticism.

"Bullocks, he doesn't dance," Cara responded as she situated herself away from Peter so she could see the others. Susan and Peter still wore corresponding looks of disbelief. "I even joined him for a brief time," she added offhandedly.

The new information made Peter frown. "He danced with you?"

"Aye." Cara looked between Susan and Peter, her lips brimming with laughter. "Why is this situation so incredulous to all of you?"

"He broke the toe of a girl once while dancing," Susan explained as if the simple sentence suddenly made her and Peter's reactions perfectly understandable. Cara stared blankly, her body language clearing indicating that she hoped Susan would elaborate.

"That's it?" Cara asked once she realized Susan's enlightening tale was quite done. Susan shrugged her shoulder in return.

"He never really cared for dancing after that."

"Well he seems to care for it now." Cara laughed at her own retort while Susan seemed only moderately entertained.

"He is probably dancing alone anyways," Susan added matter-of-factly.

"No," Cara countered. "When I first came upon him he had is arms tangled around one of Bacchus'—oh I don't know—one of those _girls_ that follow him around."

The responses elicited by Cara's statement were all very different. Glozelle immediately leaned closer to Caspian and whispered "not a bad idea," while Susan looked appalled, a look that soon turned to irritation when she noted Peter's lack of concern. Trumpkin, at this point, was no longer entertained by the ordeal, and was slowly slipping away from the fire in search of more food. Cara simply sat and watched, her lips twitching into a smile.

"I refuse to believe it," Susan huffed, her eyes still burning into the side of Peter's head.

"Oh, it's quite true." Cara smiled brightly at Susan, which in turn caused the Gentle Queen's frown to deepen.

Ending the tension in the air, Glozelle jumped suddenly to his feet and clapped his hands together once. "I say we find out for ourselves." Caspian seemed to like this idea, for he too rose to his feet and downed the last of his wine.

"Fine," Susan agreed.

Cara went to stand when she noticed that Peter was making no indication that he intended to move. "Aren't you coming?" she asked softly. Peter shook his head as he shifted Lucy's sleeping form.

"I will stay with her for a bit longer," he explained. Cara nodded in understanding and when to situate herself beside Peter, her tight lips attempting to mask her look of disappointment. The look did not go unnoticed by the High King. "Cara," he continued softly. "Go."

"Are you sure?" she questioned.

"Very. I shan't be long. I promise." Peter smiled softly at Cara as she leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on his golden hair. Wordlessly, Cara gracefully rose to her feet and quickly caught up with the others.

It was nearly an hour later when Peter finally handed Lucy's sleeping form off to a massive bear that seemed quite content to hold the valiant Queen between his furry paws and whisper her name awkwardly. Peter watched the creature for some time, his mind slightly ill at ease with the situation, but after seeing a small smile form on Lucy's face and she cuddled deeper into the bear's chest, Peter became content and slowly made his way towards the dancing.

The moon was now a glowing half-orb above them, while the cool breeze that caressed the valley became lost among the throngs of people and creatures that milled about in jovial bliss. Peter's back was clapped numerous times as he made his way towards the dancing. He nodded politely back, but offered little in terms of words. The music grew louder the further he walked, the sounds of laughter the only noise rising above the consistent hum of Bacchus' instruments.

Per usual, Peter's eyes found Cara's form the moment she came into sight. Glozelle had his arms around her waist as he spun her in time with the music. She laughed wildly, her eyes bright and wide and her mouth agape. A strange feeling seized Peter. It wasn't jealousy, although he did envy Glozelle his current state, but a feeling more akin to anticipation. His future was before him now, and she was more beautiful and free than Peter had ever expected.

Susan's bright purple gown and musical laughter turned Peter's attention away from Cara. Her partner was Caspian, and for the first time since meeting him, Peter noted that the boy suddenly looked more like a man and less like a frightened adolescent that had the weight of an entire Kingdom upon his shoulders. Peter smiled inwardly at the realization. Caspian would make a great King.

Just as Cara had explained, Edmund's arms were still securely around that of a light-haired girl. She was beautiful in an animalistic way, her barely covered body glowing in the moonlight. Peter couldn't help but wonder if Cara's would glow in the same way. He imagined it would, but muted due to the richer tones of her skin; more welcoming and warmer, but just as soft and even more beautiful.

"Pete!" Susan's winded voice suddenly rang out. Shaken from his thoughts, Peter looked across the moving throngs of dancers until he finally caught sight of Susan. She laughed as she approached him, her slender arm still comfortably draped around Caspian's torso. "Come and join us."

Peter regarded the two quietly before shifting his eyes to the young King. "Caspian," he questioned, "may I steal my sister away from you for a short dance?"

"Of course." Caspian placed Susan's hand into Peter's before nodding to them both and moving off to the side. Peter squeezed his sister's hand affectionately as he led her back onto mass of dancing bodies. The two royals soon fell into step; Peter's hand resting softly on Susan's hip as he led her around. They danced quietly for awhile, both laughing at the drunken and sporadic movements of those around them that had over indulged on the wine.

Edmund was one of these haphazard dancers; his antics eliciting a laugh from Peter so loud that Cara caught hold of the distinctive sound and immediately cast her eyes around until she found its source. Peter's eyes were still on Edmund, their corners scrunched tightly together from the force of his laugh. Cara's lips involuntarily curved into a smile.

"He is a good man." Cara turned her gaze away from Peter and found the warm eyes of Glozelle watching her intently.

"He is," she responded, her eyes sending another look of longing in Peter's direction. Glozelle chuckled softly as his hands slipped from around Cara's waist. Feeling the lack of contact, Cara glanced immediately back at Glozelle.

"Go on," Glozelle explained as he nodded his head in Peter's direction. Cara went to protest when one of Glozelle's rough fingers fells across her lips. "Go," he repeated. "He is waiting for you."

Cara turned her head as Glozelle's finger fell from her lips. Peter was no longer laughing openly with Susan clutched softly beside him. He now stood only feet from Cara and Glozelle, his blue eyes darker than usual and resting comfortably on Cara's face. She looked quickly back at Glozelle and offered a small nod before stepping completely out of his grasp and towards Peter. The High King reached for her instantly, his large hands wrapping around her petite waist as he pulled her close. Cara sighed in contentment as her fingers ran slowly up Peter's chest. They both became lost for a moment, the music a consistent hum that enveloped them.

It wasn't until a dancing couple bumped forcefully into them that Cara and Peter remembered that they were far from being alone. "Shall we join them?" Peter questioned with a smirk.

"Only if you are as fair a dancer as your brother," Cara responded, her lips barely containing her laughter.

"I can't make any promises, but I can offer you my best attempt." Peter suddenly stood back from Cara and placed a stony expression upon his face. The High Queen followed suit as Peter bowed low before her and rose to await her curtsy. She obliged, her features twitching into a smile at the sight of Peter's glowing eyes. "My Lady," he said softy, his cool demeanor quickly slipping away.

"My Lord."

Soon Peter's hands were in their proper places for dancing, although Cara's body was pressed slightly closer to his chest than was usually acceptable. Within moments Cara's feet were swept up by the dance as Peter led her to the beat of the music. Time continued as such, with Cara wrapped happily in Peter's embrace while the others traded partners and laughed and drank as the hours dwindled away and the fires dimmed.

The moon was well into her descent by the time the music began to slow. Edmund had long fallen into a deep sleep beside one of the slow burning fires, his fair-haired dancing partner cradled against his shoulder. Caspian, Susan, and Glozelle sat close by speaking quietly and attempting to fight off the feeling of sleep that was creeping upon them.

Unbeknownst to the group, Peter and Cara were currently fleeing into the cover of night in search of solitude. The decision happened rather abruptly with only one look of longing from Cara that elicited a rush of emotion so strong in Peter that he latched securely onto her hand and pulled her away from the fires and music and prying eyes. She followed him without question, her heart pounding with a secret promise of what was to come.

Now intoxicated by more than wine, Cara and Peter broke away from their camp and ran through the trampled grass of the valley. The light from the fires faded behind them as the sky opened above. The air was cool and clear, the traces of early morning dew already settling upon the ground. Peter tugged Cara to a stop once the sounds of Bacchus' music barely graced their ears and the lights from the camp were nothing more than an extension of the stars above. She gazed at him breathlessly.

Peter's caresses began slowly; his fingers running lightly over Cara's face until her eyes closed and a sigh escaped her lips. Lost in the lightness of his touch, Cara intertwined her fingers within Peter's tunic and allowed her head and shoulders to fall back. Peter's skin heated as his eyes devoured the image of Cara's body languid and open before him. Her deep breaths pushed against the top of her gown causing her chest to become taut under the fabric. Peter released a ragged breath at the sight, the tips of his fingers leaving burning trails as they grazed across her collarbone. Cara's body arched against his touch as her tongue moistened the dry skin of her lips.

Urged by the sight, Peter pulled her close, his lips moving softly over her forehead and cheeks as his fingers wrapped themselves tightly around her waist. Cara's mouth fell open at the contact, her leg subconsciously rising up and encircling Peter's calf. Releasing her waist, Peter's hand grazed along the curve of Cara's hip and onto her thigh, his lips leaving burning trails as they tasted the skin at the base of her neck. Cara's stomach tingled as Peter's fingers pulled her leg even higher, her mind lost at the new sensation of having Peter pressed between her thighs.

A moment of fear caused by innocence bubbled in Cara's chest, but it drowned in the sound of Peter's moan as he pulled her even closer and ran his fingers across her lips. Hesitantly, Cara kissed the tips of his fingers, her eyes opening to watch his reaction as her tongue tasted the salt from his skin. Peter's eyes met hers instantly; their deep blue hooded behind his golden hair and heavy lids, but even in her inexperience Cara understood the desire behind them.

She kissed him suddenly, their bodies melting together as Peter's arms wrapped so tightly around Cara that her feet lifted slightly from the ground. The kiss was feverish and deep; a dance of tasting and teasing that only increased their desire for one another. Slowly, Peter pulled away. His lips were swollen and pink and his cheeks were flushed from the heat seeping from his body.

"Are you happy?" he whispered as his pushed a wild strand of Cara's hair from her face.

"I'm beyond that," she replied.

"Come here." Cara watched as Peter eased himself onto the damp grass and ushered her beside him. She obliged quietly, her body flinching slightly as her back touched the cool ground. "You cold?" Cara nodded at the question.

Peter rolled onto his side and shifted his eyes down the length of Cara's body. She suddenly became nervous under the weight of his gaze, her hands clutching at her sides as she fought the urge to curl them around her chest. Peter seemed to notice the twitch, for he pulled her hand away from her dress and held it close to his chest. Cara calmed once she felt how intensely Peter's heart pounded under her fingers, the knowledge of his anxiety making her feel more at ease. They regarded each other silently until Cara reached for Peter's neck and pulled him towards her.

"Keep me warm," she pleaded, her body suddenly aching to feel the weight of Peter on top of her. He moved closer and placed a soft kiss upon her lips. "Closer," Cara continued as she wrapped her arms around Peter's waist and tugged. With a smile laugh, Peter followed the weight of her pull and rolled until his elbows rested comfortably on either side of Cara's head. "Kiss me."

Peter followed Cara's command with no complaint, his kiss softer and warmer than the one before. Slowly the tingling in Cara's stomach returned, its ache increasing every time Peter's hips brushed against hers. She pulled him closer in an attempt to keep the feeling. Slowly her legs parted and Peter once again slipped between her thighs, both moaning at the new feeling of intimacy.

Cara's breathing continued in ragged huffs as Peter pulled away from her lips and began to trail open mouthed kisses down the length of her throat and chest. She faded into bliss as her eyes caught sight of the brilliant sky that glowed above them; the endless sea of stars heightening their solitude. Soon Peter's lips returned to Cara's and the sky became nothing more than a black blur, but the realization of solitude infused Cara with a bravery that she had not yet felt. Her fingers ran roughly down Peter's back until they reached the edge of his tunic. After only a moments pause, Cara's fingers slipped under the soft fabric and onto the warmth of Peter's skin. His muscles contracted under the feel of her cool hands, but as she continued to stroke and explore, Peter relaxed heavily against her.

She moaned at the feeling of the new weight, Peter's length now pressing fully against her. Peter stopped at the sound and lifted himself suddenly from her body. The cool air that surrounded them filled the empty space immediately making Cara's body tremble from the feeling of rejection and lack of warmth. Her frown and fears deepened as Peter rolled away from her and onto his back. Cara sat up instantly and pulled her knees to her chest, the blush on her cheeks barely noticeable in the faint light.

"Is something wrong?" she questioned, the fear leaking into her voice. "Di—did I do something wrong?" Peter looked at Cara immediately, the frown that graced his features quickly turning into a look of concern.

"No, Cara. No, you've done nothing wrong," Peter responded as he lifted himself into a sitting position.

"Then why did you stop so suddenly?" Cara's insecurities were at the brink of exposing themselves in the form of anger, her voice rigid and her arms securely across her chest.

"Because it wouldn't be honorable if I didn't stop," Peter replied in an even tone. Cara's demeanor softened at his answer, but she still did not seem wholly convinced. With a small sigh Peter kneeled before Cara and forced her arms away from her chest. "Because," he began softly as he attempted to force her to look at him, "if we continued much longer I wouldn't have been able to stop."

Cara still refused to meet his eyes, but the small slouch in her shoulders indicated that Peter was nearly through her hard exterior. "Because one day we will be married and won't have to stop."

Their gazes immediately met; Peter's relaxed and confident and Cara's open and filled with disbelief. "You want to marry me?" she whispered, the seemingly silly question causing Peter to laugh.

"Of course I want to marry you," he replied. Cara's cool composure melted away at Peter's words, her arms instantly wrapping tightly around his neck as her lips sought his. He rolled back onto the ground and cradled Cara comfortably against his chest.

Their kisses slowly dwindled away and soon both found themselves staring sleepily up at the sky, their hearts beating steadily in time with each other. Neither spoke, the lull of the cool night and the feeling of absolute contentment making words superfluous. Tomorrow promised another day of happiness and from the way the world looked from where they sat, all of eternity did too.


	24. Somebody to Love, Part I

Chapter 23

Somebody to Love

Part 1

The Telmarine castle looked different in the noontime sun than it did in the dead of night. It seemed ominous before; a dark, foreboding mass of stone and marble cloaked in fog and shadowed by the massive towers that rose above it. Now those towers were dressed in brightly colored flags of red and gold, and the cheers of happiness that filtered from the castle's corridors and streets filled the air with a light tone that enveloped the large party of soldiers and royals that rode slowly towards it.

Caspian was in the forefront, the emblem of the Great Lion that walked beside him embroidered across his chest. Peter and Cara rode only steps behind, the former recalling with a small smile how difficult it had been to convince the soon to be King to take the lead.

"But you are High King, Peter," Caspian had argued as the royals began climbing onto their mounts and taking their proper positions in line. "You will always be King before me."

"Today you will be crowned the King of Narnia," Peter replied, "and you need to enter _your _Kingdom as such." Caspian watched as Peter pulled himself gracefully onto the back of his steed, his movements seeming far smoother and more comfortable than anything Caspian could accomplish. "Caspian," Peter continued once he noticed the look of nausea creeping onto the Prince's features, "I am _a _King of Narnia, but you are going to be _the_ King of Narnia. My time has come and gone. It's your turn now."

The two young men regarded each other quietly before Caspian nodded in understanding. Peter watched with sympathy as Caspian attempted to square his shoulders and tighten his jaw before swiftly pulling himself onto the back of his horse. The High King fully understood the boy's anxieties and fears. He had been their once. He knew the suffocating feeling of responsibility.

Once situated, Caspian glanced quickly at Peter and offered him another quiet nod. It was stronger, more determined. "After you," Peter responded as he indicated with his hand for Caspian to take the lead. With a visible sigh, Caspian ushered his mare into a slow canter and made his way towards the front of the quickly forming line. Peter followed suit, a small smirk playing across his lips.

"What are you smiling about?" Peter's mind slowly drifted back to the present at the sound of Cara's voice. She sat happily upon Alvaro, both draped in the colors of the Lion and embellished with chains and ribbons of gold.

"Can I not just be happy?" Peter questioned with a raised eyebrow, his lips twitching into a smirk.

"Only if I am your reason for happiness." Peter laughed openly at Cara's reply, the sound deep and musical. "Why does that reason call for laughter?" Cara questioned with a look of mock astonishment.

Peter's laugh continued as he moved his horse closer to Cara and attempted to grasp her hand. "Come here."

"Oh no, Dear King. Do not think my forgiveness is so easily given," Cara responded as she dipped just out of Peter's reach.

"You minx." Peter reached for Cara again, his fingers ensnaring her forearm and pulling her towards him. Alvaro followed the weight of her body and instantly stepped closer to Peter's horse. Attempting to hide her amusement, Cara turned her head away from Peter and refused to meet his eyes. "I see the games you play."

"Games? I do say you are digging yourself into a much deeper hole," Cara retorted while she playfully tugged her arm from Peter's grasp and pushed him away.

"How might I return to your good graces?"

"Well," Cara pondered out loud. "You could begin by giving me a swe—"

A very loud and distinct groan came from behind Cara abruptly ending her request. She turned to see Edmund riding close behind her with his hand massaging his temple and look of disgust across his features. "For the love of all things holy, please do not finish that sentence. I do not think that my throbbing head can take anymore looks of love or sickening sweet flirting from you two today."

Cara's face immediately became flushed with heat. The previous night's private events had left both royals far less guarded about their wants and emotions, but Cara could not recall any display of affection that warranted such a look of loathing. Needing reassurance, Cara turned to Peter.

The High King seemed far less concerned than Cara, for displayed across his face was a confident smirk. "I do say that _throbbing_ is your own doing, Ed, and as I recall you were far from upstanding last night when your arms were draped so carelessly around the waist of that nymph or dryad or whatever she was."

Edmund's face soon filled with as much heat as Cara's, which, of course, only increased when both Susan and Lucy erupted into giggles. "Do not hate on a young man for following his passions," Glozelle commented with a wide smile. "We have all had such experiences."

"Indeed," Peter replied as he turned in his saddle to look at his siblings and Glozelle, "I recall you, Gentle sister, following such passions as well." Susan's shocked face turned such a deep red that it reminded Lucy of the time when Susan first attempted to douse her cheeks with blush. The result was two large, bright pink blotches that kept Lucy in giggles and Susan in tears for nearly an hour.

"Yes, Peter," Susan finally replied, "as I do recall that tale is a wonderful illustration as to why following one's passions is not always the best course of action."

"Rabadash wasn't all that disagreeable," Edmund chimed in with a smile before wincing away from the sun and once again covering his eyes.

"No," Lucy added. "He only wished to conquer Archenland and force Susan into wedlock." Susan's eyes immediately dropped, her cheeks turning from red to pale.

"He sounds perfectly agreeable," Cara said with a laugh as she leaned over Alvaro and placed a soft kiss on Peter's cheek. The High King smiled in return, his fingers immediately intertwining with hers.

The journey to the castle was now only a short distance longer. Soon the steady _clip clop_ of hundreds of hooves ricocheted off the wooden bridge and along the deep gorge that lay below it. Trumpets sounded as the party filtered past the main gate and into the lower corridors, while children and women tossed handfuls of wild flowers out of their windows and balconies. Soon the air was filled with dancing petals as they floated over the traveling party and onto the ground.

Most everyone seemed content to allow the talking beasts and royals from old to enter their city. They cheered a happy welcome and ran their fingers through Aslan's mane as he walked past. Caspian's woes were no longer worn across his face. Instead he radiated confidence as he rode towards the heart of the castle, his smile wide and his hand consistently in the air.

"Glozelle!" a feminine voice called not long after the entire troop had entered the gate. A bright smile danced off of Cara's face as the beautiful form of Catalina appeared and disappeared between the crowds of moving people. "Glozelle!"

"General." Cara cocked her head until she found Glozelle riding only a few horses behind her. He instantly looked up at the sound of her voice. "I believe you have someone looking for you."

With a furled brow Glozelle began to scan the surrounding crowd. "Lina!" he shouted once he caught sight of Catalina's face bobbing between people.

Catalina finally pushed past the crowd and into the street, her eyes immediately seeking the General's. Upon finding him, her face broke into a brilliant smile. "You're alive," she stated breathlessly. Glozelle laughed at her statement as he ushered his horse to the edge of the street and closer to Catalina.

"I am."

"They did not harm you?" Catalina questioned as she glanced at the passing Narnians with apprehension.

"On the contrary. Many of them helped to keep me alive," he responded as troops continued to move past him and deeper into the castle. Glozelle glanced quickly at the now distant forms of his companions before once again catching Catalina's eye. "I must go. I will see you inside." Without another word, Glozelle kicked his horse forward and along the side of the street.

Catalina watched Glozelle's fleeting back until he rounded a corner and disappeared from sight. With a heavy sigh she turned from the street and pushed her way back through the happy crowd. She did not know what she expected from their reunion, but the little girl inside of her suddenly felt crushed and alone. Visions of him sweeping her from the ground and onto the back of steed entered her mind. Both were happy and content as he wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly to his chest. _Stupid girl_ she thought to herself. _Stupid, stupid girl_.

"Move. Please move," Catalina pleaded as she shoved her way into the shadows of the side streets and back to the castle, her chest contracting in pain as she attempted to contain her tears.

BBBBBB

Queen Prunaprismia stood quietly at the top of the stairs that led to the interior of the castle. She wore her best gown. It was a deep purple made with yards of fabric so thick that it barely moved when she walked. Apart from the slight redness and swelling that encircled her eyes, Prunaprismia's demeanor was flawless and unabashed. Behind her stood a short dumpy woman with wild grey hair and a look of complete boredom. Clutched tightly to her breast was the newly born Prince. He cooed quietly as his fingers attempted to grasp the grey ringlets that dangled before him.

The cheers of happiness that wafted through the outside corridors and halls quieted as Caspian led the majority of the party towards his aunt. Aslan stayed beside him the entire time, his tail twitching sporadically from side to side. Prunaprismia gave the Lion a look of unease before focusing her gaze completely on Caspian. She regarded him with tired eyes, but made to move to offer any gesture of welcome.

"I loved my husband," she finally said. Her voice was powerful and deep for a woman.

Visibly unsure of how to react, Caspian's eyes raked across Aslan before landing on Peter. The High King offered Caspian a distinct nod of encouragement, but nothing more. Quietly Caspian returned his attention to the woman that had mistreated him his entire life and condoned his murder attempt for the sake of her own son. Many words entered Caspian's mind, most far from kind, but with a deep breath he allowed the past to remain the past, and opted instead to bow low before her. "Queen Prunaprismia."

Her eyebrow rose at his gesture, but her stance was unwavering. Realizing that she was not going to return such formalities, Caspian returned to an upright position and attempted to keep his demeanor cool. "As I am not yet King, I ask you for your blessing to enter your home, and for those that enter with me to be treated kindly by yourself and your people." A long moment of silence past before Prunaprismia nodded her head in understanding.

"You all may enter," she stated as her eyes swept across the small group before her. Caspian offered her a hesitant smile, which she acknowledged but did not return. Caspian's smile faltered as he turned to the others who were still standing quietly behind him. Peter gave a nod of approval and slight smile, while Glozelle, who was now holding Miraz's belongings, stepped towards his former Queen.

"Your Highness," Glozelle greeted as he slid to one knee and offered Prunaprismia the sword of her husband. She looked upon it with a rigid jaw before grasping it tightly between her finders and bringing it to her chest. Without another word she turned away from the party and disappeared back into the castle.

"Well," Caspian said once the last of Prunaprismia's gown was gone from sight, "shall we?" Being the closest to him, Glozelle patted Caspian on the shoulder before following Prunaprismia's footsteps and moving into the castle. The rest soon followed, all once again wearing smiles and talking blissfully about the coronation to come and all the various possibilities for the future. Susan and Lucy were discussing the latter when the younger Queen's face suddenly became alight with an idea.

"Oh Peter," she said as she skipped forward until she was walking beside Peter and Cara, "I just had the most brilliant idea. Do you recall that Cara has never been to the Lone Islands?"

"I do," Peter responded, while Cara gave her a quizzical look.

"Well after the coronation and such we should take her!" she exclaimed. "Wouldn't it be wonderful? We could build a ship even more magnificent than the Splendor Hyaline."

"That would be wonderful," Cara replied to the beaming girl before turning her eyes to Peter and nudging his side. "Quite wonderful." Lucy immediately began planning the size and look of the ship, from its silken sails to the mermaid that would encompass the bow. Soon Susan joined her, both now describing the music and food that would accompany them on the voyage.

"I would love to go," Cara said quietly to Peter as his arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her close.

"And I would love to take you," he answered. "As soon as Caspian is comfortable in his duties here, we will be free to do anything that we wish."

"A lifetime of happiness?" Cara questioned causing Peter to smile and hold her even tighter.

"A lifetime of happiness," he whispered into her hair.

BBBBBB

Catalina had managed to control her emotions by the time Queen Prunaprismia reentered her chambers. A few lone tears did leek from her eyes while she ran quickly though the castle, but she had wiped them angrily off before they had a chance to reach her cheeks. The result was a look similar to the one worn by Prunaprismia; a hard, coarse demeanor with red-rimmed eyes and an occasionally quivering jaw.

Prunaprismia entered her chambers quietly and sat stiffly on her massive, inordinate bed. Catalina watched from across the room as her Lady pulled her husband's sword tightly to her chest and began weeping. The once strong, poised Queen looked broken, the sight causing a new wave of tears to spill shamelessly down Catalina's cheeks. Prunaprismia looked up at the sound with wild, glossy eyes.

Seeing that she was caught, Catalina stepped forward and into the dim light that filtered in through one of the chamber's many windows. Prunaprismia instantly set Miraz's sword to the side and wiped the tears from her face. "There is a small group accompanying my nephew. Go to them and see if they need any help in their preparations for the coronation."

"Your Majesty?" Catalina questioned. "I rather assist yo—"

"Go!" Prunaprismia shouted bitterly. Taken aback by her Queen's outburst, Catalina stood stricken for a few long moments. "I said go, you stupid girl." Finally shaken from her rigid state, Catalina curtsied quickly and ran from the room. Prunaprismia waited until the sound of the door slamming shut ricocheted throughout the room before collapsing onto the bed and allowing her tears to engulf her.

Catalina was once again attempting to control her emotions as she hurried down the hall. Glozelle did not want her; her Queen did not need her, and now she was being forced to minister to the very group of people that had destroyed her life. Was there no justice? Quickly the emotion driving Catalina's tears turned from sorrow to anger, but that anger never had a chance to manifest itself, for she turned a sharp corner and rammed headfirst into the chest of the High King.

Peter's hands instantly shot to Catalina's shoulders as he steadied her quivering body. "Are you alright?" he questioned with a look of concern. Catalina's tear filled eyes stared forward her as she attempted to make out the blurred emblem upon his chest.

"The Lion," she whispered before pushing herself away from Peter's grasp and falling into a deep curtsy. "Your Highness, I apologize for my careless and rude behavior. I will happily accept any reproof you give me." Catalina did not know the royal's name or status, only that he was quite obviously important.

"Reproof…?" Peter stepped forward and pulled Catalina from her bow. "There is nothing to be sorry for," he said softly causing Catalina to stare up at him in astonishment. Truly it was the first time that she had seen him, and her now wide eyes were caused less by fear and more by the depth of the deep blue pools that were gazing down at her. Any thought of Glozelle or ill will towards the castle's new residents was instantly gone from her mind. She would serve anyone without complaint if it was the wish of the man before her.

"Peter." The sound of Glozelle's voice instantly destroyed the moment, for Catalina found herself now standing feet from the Narnian royal, her body still tingling from his warmth. "I see you have met Catalina," Glozelle continued as he approached the duo, his features slightly hardened and his tone cool.

"Ah," Peter responded with a smile as he turned his attention back to the girl, "so that is your name."

"Your Highness," Catalina whispered, her cheeks burning red and her heart thumping wildly in her chest.

"That is not necessary," Peter continued. "You may call me Peter."

"Peter," she corrected softly, his name falling easily from her lips.

"Yes," Glozelle cut in, "now that introductions are over, Caspian sent me to find you." Glozelle stepped in front of Peter as he said this, his body completely blocking Catalina from the High King's sight. Peter nodded at Glozelle once before stepping away from him and looking softly at Catalina.

"It was lovely to meet you. I'm sure we will see far more of each other," he said with a small bow. Catalina offered a bright smile and a small crusty as Peter turned on his heel and disappeared back the way he came. Both Glozelle and Catalina watched him go, their expressions ranging from annoyance to giddy happiness. Finally pulling himself together, Glozelle turned his attention to the girl beside him. He noted with further aggravation that she was still gazing at the spot Peter had occupied only moments prior.

"Don't fool yourself," he said to her as he went to walk away. Catalina's previous reasons for sorrow and anger instantly rushed to the forefront of her mind. Attempting to control the bitter hatred that was once again burning in her chest, Catalina closed her eyes and took a long, deep breath.

"Whatever do you mean?" she finally said nonchalantly to Glozelle's back.

"I saw the way you looked at him," Glozelle responded as he turned quickly and stared accusingly at her. Catalina regarded the General with a blank expression.

"Oh offered him no _look_, and if I had, it would be no concern to you," she scoffed.

"He is a path that will only break your heart." Glozelle attempted to move towards Catalina, but she quickly retreated from his grasp. A strange feeling seized his chest at her actions. Never before had she seemed so repulsed by his touch. She had always wanted him. Always needed him.

"I have duties to attend to," Catalina said softly as she turned away from Glozelle and continued on her way.

"Fine," Glozelle called after her, pride controlling his words and actions, "you will discover soon enough that my words are true."

With tears once again threatening to leak from her eyes, Catalina broke into a short jog in an attempt to rid herself of Glozelle presence. Seeing her so desperate to get away from him, a sadness that Glozelle could not place overwhelmed him. "Lina," he suddenly called, but the sound seemed lost to her, for she quickly turned the corner at the end of hall and disappeared from sight.

BBBBBB

"The dress actually ripped?" Cara asked with a look of astonishment. She was currently sitting on a plush bed in an ornately decorated room. Susan and Lucy were with her, the former sifting through a row of possible gowns and the latter laying lazily across a rug of deep blue and bright gold.

"Yes," Susan replied, "I had never been more embarrassed in my entire life."

"You should have seen her face," Lucy chimed in with a giggle.

"Truly," Susan added as she turned away from the wardrobe, "all I was trying to do wa—did either of you hear a knock?" Silence filled the room as Cara and Lucy turned their attention to the door. "Lu, go check," Susan added before turning her attention back to Cara and continuing her story.

With a sigh and an eye roll, Lucy pushed herself up from the ground and made her way to the door. Devoid of any excitement, Lucy pulled open the door only to reveal a very ragged and emotional looking young woman. "Can I help you?" Lucy asked in a worried voice, which caused both Cara and Susan to once again turn their attention towards the door.

Catalina attempted to swallow the lump in her throat as her eyes blurred over with tears for the umpteenth time that day. "Oh…" was all Lucy could say before Cara leapt from her place on the bed and stepped beside Lucy.

"Catalina?" Cara questioned as she tugged the distraught woman into the room and shut the door.

"You know her?" Susan asked, her delicate features filled with concern.

"She aided in my escape," Cara explained while she led Catalina over to the massive bed and ushered her into a sitting position. Once Catalina seemed comfortable, Cara carefully pushed her hair from her face and wiped the dampness from her cheeks. "Are you alright?" Cara asked softly. The young woman made no response, causing Cara to glance at Lucy and Susan in a silent plea for help.

"I always like candies when I'm sad," Lucy offered with a small shrug of her shoulders. Susan shot a look of disproval at her sister before walking gracefully to the side of the bed and wrapping her arm around Catalina's shoulder.

"Catalina," Cara said quietly as she attempted to get the girl's attention. "Is it Glozelle?" Catalina's eyes shot up at the mention of the General, and even though she fought the new onslaught of pressure building behind her eyes, moments later she was leaning heavily on Cara and weepy uncontrollably. Cara was bewildered that her first guess had been the correct one. She had simply offered his name for he was the only Telmarine that both young women knew. Cara supposed it was a typical cause, though. Men were always the greatest at making girls cry.

"I—I hate him," Catalina shouted through her tears.

"Surely you can't mean that," Cara cooed as she rubbed Catalina's back in an attempt to calm her.

"I do!" Without warming Catalina shot from the bed and began pacing the room. "I abhor him. He is the lowest piece of scum to ever walk upon this land. He cares nothing for the feelings of others. Even if—even if they love him with all their heart." Susan glanced at Cara with wide eyes as Catalina ended her rant and sat heavily upon the ground. The girl looked defeated and broken. Silent tears tricked from her red, swollen eyes and ran lazily down her cheeks, while her disheveled dark hair shot from her head in random places.

The three young royals sat quietly in their spots waiting for Catalina to make her next move, whether that be another rant or another breakdown. The servant girl did not keep them waiting long, for not moments after she entered into a quiet calm, her eyes once again grew wide as she shot to her feel. "Your Majesties please excuse my behavior. I promise it shall never happen again."

Susan and Lucy shared a look of utter confusion before returning their attention to the now bowing young woman. "This has to be the strangest girl I have ever met," Susan whispered to Lucy.

"Susan," Cara reprimanded, "this girl has lived in a household of cruelty for the majority of her life. She is a servant, and is used to being treated as thus." Pouting, Susan pushed herself from her sitting position upon the bed and wandered back over to the wardrobe where she rather roughly began to reexamine the gowns.

"Catalina, I will not have you bowing before me. If it wasn't for you and that man that you so detest, I would be dead. Pull yourself together." Cara shifted her gaze from Susan to Catalina, before returning it to Susan with a scrutinizing look. "I have an idea," she said suddenly. Even though Susan was pretending to be uninterested, she glanced over her shoulder with a look of slight interest as Cara rushed over to Catalina and began to pull her towards a small chamber in the back of the room that contained a wash tub.

"Lucy, ask for some hot water. Susan pick the most beautiful gown you can find," Cara explained with excitement.

"Am I allowed to ask why?" Susan questioned.

"We are going to make Catalina the most beautiful girl at the coronation," Catalina's eye grew wide at Cara's words as she attempted to pull herself from the High Queen's grasp.

"Your Majesty that is not only unnecessary, but impossible," Catalina exclaimed.

"Catalina," Cara said softly as she placed her hands on the girl's shoulders, "it is obvious that Glozelle hurt you in some fashion, and the greatest way to cause him the same amount of pain is to dress yourself in confidence and pretend that you do not care." The two women regarded each other quietly for a long moment. Catalina's mind wandered from Glozelle to the blue-eyed royal that had treated her with such kindness. Perhaps the time to move on from Glozelle was upon her.

"Ok," Catalina replied with a small smile, "but Glozelle is not the only man whose attention I wish to catch."

_Hey guys! Sorry that you had to wait a month for this chapter, and I'm even more sorry that it is short and rather uneventful. Both Catalina and Prunaprismia are going to be important characters, so I needed to take some time to introduce you guys to them. The next chapter will be posted much quicker, and I promise it will be far more entertaining. Actually, a lot happens between now and the end. Anyway, please leave a review. I would love to hear what you think about this chapter and what is going to happen next! Cheers!_


	25. Somebody to Love, Part II

Chapter 23

Somebody to Love

Part II

"Caspian, sit down."

It was coming on early evening. The future King and his comrades were situated in a small chamber attached to the main Hall. While the small chamber was cramped and sparsely decorated, the Hall was grand. It had only a fraction of the natural light that once filled the Hall in Cair Paravel, but the ornate chandeliers that hung from the fifty foot ceiling were more than enough to brighten the usually dim room. The walls were covered with the emblem of the Great Lion, his kind eyes watching as both Old and New Narnia filtered into the magnificently decorated room. This was, of course, the direct cause of Caspian's returning anxiety and inability to sit still.

Truly, Caspian could not even pin point who was responsible for yelling at him this time, for nearly everyone in the room had made some comment pertaining to his newly acquired twitch, but he did not care. He could not control the suffocating weight of responsibility that was bearing down on him. Caspian recalled Peter's advice from earlier; kind words urging him to stand tall and remember that he was not alone in his duties. Those words seemed meaningless now.

Apart from Caspian, everyone else seemed rather calm, if not bored even. Edmund was currently fighting sleep in a luxurious, gold chair, his face slipping repeatedly from his perched hand, while Peter stared blankly out an open window. Also accompanying the royals were Glozelle, Glenstorm, and Trumpkin, each entertaining himself in a different way. Glozelle spent his time glaring intensely at Peter's back, while Glenstorm and Trumpkin played a heated game of chess and shared an old bottle of whiskey that the latter had found after a long snoop around the kitchen.

After another ten minutes of pacing, sleeping, staring, glaring, and drinking, the two huge doors leading into the chamber opened revealing Susan and Lucy. All stood—apart from Edmund—at their arrival, and nodded their heads in greeting. "Gentlemen," Susan said before walking directly to Edmund's sleeping form and thumping him harshly on the head. He jumped up in a fit of fright before realizing that his newly acquired pain was his sister's doing.

"You could have just shaken me," he said with a glare as he eased himself back into his seat. "That's what a sane person would have done."

"You shouldn't be sleeping at all," Susan retorted.

Glozelle's eyes twitched to the bickering duo before a brilliant sight pulled his attention towards the door. It was Catalina. She stood awkwardly at the threshold of the chamber wearing a magnificent gown of deep green lined with gold. The gown was obviously made for a Queen, and even though the colors made her eyes seem more hazel than brown, and the tight corset and billowy skirt extenuated her soft curves, it was obvious that she was far from comfortable wearing it. Catalina's fingers twitched nervously in front of her, an old habit that she inherited from her mother, while her still slightly puffy eyes surveyed the room.

Glozelle saw none of this, his eyes moving quickly over Catalina's figure before stopping on her long, dark hair that cascaded down her back and over her shoulders in soft waves. It was a look that Glozelle had never seen upon her before, and a look that he instantly found breathtaking. Before Catalina seemed like nothing more than a little girl with an unwavering crush on an older man. She was no longer that little girl. She was woman; a woman that was proud yet terrified, learned yet innocent, and independent yet desperately in need of love.

Catalina could feel Glozelle's eyes upon her, and even though she earned to look at him, she refused herself the pleasure. Instead she studied the chamber's other occupants. Sitting in the corner were two creatures that she had never seen before. One was a tiny man with a head and face full of thick, red hair, while the other was a half-man half-horse beast with a shiny dark coat and piercing eyes to match. Her breath hitched when she saw them, but she made no outward indication of the shock she was feeling. Lucy, the youngest Queen, had described these two men thoroughly not long ago. Her voice was filled with admiration and love, both sentiments that Catalina could not fathom at the moment.

After skimming past those that she recognized and one brilliantly dressed young man fighting sleep in a plump chair, Catalina's eyes found the man from the hall. His beauty caused her breath to hitch in another way, and her mind hoped subconsciously that Glozelle had noticed. The High King was regarding her as well, his blue eyes seemingly transfixed. Catalina blushed under the weight of his stare, and finally finding the courage inside of her, met his eyes with determination. Peter stepped forward instantly, his movements causing Catalina's heart to tighten in her chest.

Then the truth became apparent.

Peter was but a step away from Catalina when a breathtaking smile graced his features and his large, warm hands stretched forward. "Cara," he whispered with more love and devotion than Catalina had ever heard. The High Queen appeared instantly from behind Catalina, her arms moving easily around Peter's neck as he pulled her to him and kissed her softly upon the lips. "You look beautiful," Peter breathed into her hair once they had parted.

Catalina felt foolish as her earlier conversation with Glozelle swiftly came crashing down upon her. _He is a path that will only break your heart. _So this is what he had meant. Peter's heart was already taken.

Tired of crying and tired of feeling weak and brainless, Catalina's body became enveloped with rage. Her eyes sought Glozelle's as she picked her heavy skirts from the ground and moved heatedly towards him. She reached him in only a few long steps, and after a moment of staring angrily into his eyes, Catalina lifted her hand and slapped Glozelle harshly across the face. The sound echoed throughout the chamber, causing all within it to stare in shocked silence.

Glozelle's head shot to the side from the force of the blow. A moment later his eyes dropped to the ground as he lifted his fingers to touch his quickly swelling cheek. Catalina watched him with quivering lips, her chest and face filling with red blotches as heat rushed through her body.

"Catalina," Glozelle said once he had composed himself.

"Don't," she responded. "You've already done enough." Without another word Catalina turned on her heel and fled. Her eyes looked sadly upon Peter and Cara, whose fingers were now wrapped tightly together and whose eyes shared the same blank look of confusion. Such love she saw between them that her chest once again restricted as she fought to control her tears. Before any could escape, Catalina pushed past the guards at the door and disappeared in a mass of green and gold down the corridor.

Once again enveloped with silence, the remaining company looked at each other with puzzled expressions. "What just happened?" Edmund finally questioned.

"Catalina slapped Glozelle," Lucy explained as she shot Edmund a look indicating that his question was ridiculous. He rolled his eyes in response.

"Thank you for pointing out what I _clearly_ missed," Edmund responded.

"Are you just going to let her run?" Cara asked Glozelle in disbelief, her words completely cutting off Lucy's counter to Edmund's remark. The room became silent as everyone awaited Glozelle's answer. He shifted awkwardly from foot to foot before finally meeting Cara's intense glare. "What did you do to her?" she continued after Glozelle still refused to speak.

"I did nothing," he responded in a harsh whisper as he eyes moved to Peter. Cara's eyes followed Glozelle's until they came to rest on the High King.

With a frown she looked repeatedly between the two. "What is going on?"

Peter's face filled with confusion as he thrust his arms in the air in a gesture of innocence. Glozelle's brow furled at the action. "I'm at as great a loss as you," Peter responded. "I've only seen the girl once before."

"Once is all it takes when the moment is meaningful," Glozelle retorted. Cara's eyes immediately flew to Peter.

"What is he talking about?" she questioned softly after a moment of silence, her face filled with uncertainty.

"Nothing," Peter responded. "I collided with the girl in the hallway, I apologized, Glozelle appeared and introduced us, and then I left."

Maintaining her look of skepticism, Cara glanced between the two men. Both were eyeing each other, Glozelle's gaze heavy with loathing and Peter's filled with confusion. Although the High King was not sporting a look of guilt, his arms where now crossed tightly over his chest.

"This is ridiculous," Caspian said in frustration as he flung his arms into the air.

"I'm rather entertained, actually." Edmund's comment received glares from both of his sisters, their looks of disgust causing him to sink even lower into his chair.

"No." Caspian interjected as Cara attempted to continue her line of questioning. "The three of you can continue this nonsense after my coronation, but I refuse to be burdened with it any longer."

Cara let out an irritated huff and stepped towards Caspian. The standoff was an obvious test of authority. Only days prior Caspian's cold demeanor would have swayed under the commanding weight of Cara's dark eyes, but he felt different now—empowered—and he refused to show any form of weakness.

"Cara," Peter said softly after a moment of intense silence. Caspian watched as Cara's character softened. She still avoided Peter's eyes, but her blatant disregard for Caspian's authority lessened under Peter's look of disproval. "Cara," Peter repeated, his voice sharper than before. With a visible glare of hatred Cara moved hastily past the future King and sat heavily on the couch beside Lucy.

The once quiet, lazy air was now thick with tension and unease. Peter attempted to situate himself beside Cara, but one pointed looked from the High Queen quickly altered his plan. Glozelle snickered at the small exchange; his rude behavior eliciting another glare from Cara that resulted in the General being as quiet as the High King.

"Why was Catalina wearing a gown?" Glozelle asked randomly after a few minutes of charged silence. His eyes were one Cara, but her still fowl mood kept her from even attempting to look at him.

"She came to us in tears," Susan explained after she realized that Cara had no interest in talking. "We were simply trying to make her feel better."

"Because of you," Cara added with a sarcastic chuckle. With a look of dejection, Glozelle turned his eyes towards the ornate rug at his feet.

"She mentioned another boy as well," Lucy added in an off handed whisper. Cara's leg, which had previously been twitching sporadically, instantly stopped at Lucy's words. With a looked of realization, Cara's eyes turned to Peter. He looked back at her with confidence, his poise silently daring her to question his honor. She went to speak when the massive doors once again creaked open. A feeling of calm immediately wafted throughout the room.

Aslan had arrived. It was time.

BBBBBBB

Despite the obvious tension encompassing the royal party, the coronation ran rather smoothly. Edmund escorted his sisters behind. All three were smiling, but Lucy wore the only look of true happiness, for Edmund's face displayed more or a smirk than a smile, and Susan was attempting to keep from grimacing as Edmund pinched her delicate hand harshly in his own.

"Stop," she had whispered between clinched teeth.

"Apologize for whacking me," Edmund replied, his smirk even more evident than before.

Cara and Peter entered not far behind the trio. They walked beside each other, but it could hardly be claimed that Peter _escorted_ her, for Cara refused to allow Peter the honor of touching her in any way. After a few futile attempts at holding Cara's hand, Peter decided to forgo the fight and opted instead to keep a steady distance from the volatile High Queen. He would deal with her later.

Caspian and Aslan entered last. All stood in the future King's honor as he walked slowly to the head of the Great Hall. The fighting siblings and lovers put aside their quarrels for the short time that Caspian stood before them, each smiling honestly and proudly as they watched Aslan bless Caspian and Glozelle place the thick gold crown worn by Caspian's ancestors upon his head.

"Subjects of Narnia," Aslan's deep voice bellowed as he turned towards the crowd, "I present to you King Caspian the Tenth." The cheers were deafening as Caspian stepped forward and waved awkwardly to his people. After a few long moments of celebration, Caspian ushered his people back to silence.

"I pledge to all of you that Narnia will no longer be divided by discriminating ideas such as old and new, barbaric and civilized, but will be one strong Kingdom of creatures and humans forging lives together. Today, we are all Narnians!" Caspian's words elicited a cheer so loud that the surrounding forest shook from the sound. The wild beasts called in their native tongues, while the human's clapped and whistled and hugged each other in happiness.

The Hall quickly changed from a place of quiet homage to an outright celebration. Bacchus and his followers entered through the back of the room in a parade of music, food and wine. Dryads shook their leafy heads as they scattered around the great room and began a dance that shook the marble floor beneath their root shaped feet. Many of the Telmarines in attendance grabbed goblets of the rich wine and entered into the dance with hardly a second thought. Others fled from the room in outright fear, their hearts and minds not yet ready for dancing trees and talking animals.

Lucy quickly disappeared into the mass, her face bright with happiness as she too joined the dance. Susan opted instead to grab two goblets of wine, one for herself and the other meant as a truce between her and Edmund. The young King accepted the respite openly, but refused the wine with a look of repulsion. Caspian took it instead, his previous anxieties no longer apparent as he greeted his subjects and allowed them to kiss his fingers and offer their words of admiration.

Cara seemed only slightly less miffed than before. Tired of her childish anger, Peter had long left her side and entered into a conversation with Glenstorm and a few other soldiers. He seemed unfazed by their lack of communication, and that small fact had altered Cara's mood from angry to sad. She held a goblet loosely in her finger, her eyes mesmerized as she sloshed the deep red liquid around in circles.

"You should be celebrating," a deep voice said from behind Cara. She jumped slightly at the noise before turning towards it. She sighed at the realization that it was Glozelle, but her hardened scowl was no longer visible.

"I am," she replied with a gesture towards the glass in her hand. Glozelle nodded, a smirk gracing his features.

"I must admit something," Glozelle continued after a moment of hesitation, his voice suddenly serious. Cara looked at him expectantly. "Peter," Glozelle started as he cast his eyes towards the High King before returning them to Cara, "Peter, truly did nothing to warrant such feelings from you." Cara held the General's gaze for a long moment before nodding in understanding. Glozelle returned the nod as he squeezed Cara's shoulder affectionately. "I will see you later then," he added as he turned to leave.

"General?" Cara's soft voice questioned. "Where are you going?"

"To find Catalina."

BBBBBBB

It took Glozelle nearly an hour to find her. He half expected that their reunion would be nothing short of a fairytale. She would be crying in the garden surrounded by deep red roses and the vibrant green of her dress. Upon his arrival she would run into his open arms with her face wet with tears; tears that he would brush softly away to reveal the beauty of her smile. Perhaps he would kiss her. Perhaps that kiss would lead to something more. Glozelle smiled when a visualization of the last part entered his mind.

But seeing that Narnia is no land of fairytales, their reunion went quite differently. Instead of surrounded by rose bushes, Glozelle found Catalina between an array of brooms and mops. Her gown from earlier was now nothing more than a tousled heap on the floor at her feet. She once again wore servant's attire with her beautiful hair pulled back in a thick, haphazard braid. Glozelle kneeled before her, his eyes noting that her cheeks were now dry.

"Catalina," he whispered as he attempted to move a stray strand of hair from her cheek. She pushed his hand violently away before rising to her feet and shoving herself in the corner farthest from him.

"Why are you here?" she asked in weak voice.

"I came to apologize." Glozelle maneuvered back to his feet and rested heavily against a dusty wall. Catalina eyed his movement with unease.

"For what? Nearly allowing me to humiliate myself?" she responded as she picked a bucket off of the floor and chucked it at Glozelle's head.

"Are you mad?" Glozelle questioned as he ducked away from the bucket. It clamored heavily to the floor and rocked onto its side.

"Yes!" Catalina shouted. "Livid, irate, and enraged are also words that come to mind." She accentuated each new adjective by heaving any throw-able object at Glozelle's moving form. He dodged all but the last, a thick bar of old soap that collided happily with the side of his head. Her anger still not subdued, Catalina went to grab another bar of soap when Glozelle lunged towards her and pinned her arms to her side. She screamed in protest.

"Listen to me." Glozelle was far larger and far stronger than the struggling girl in his arms, but Catalina seemed unabashed by this. If anything, it only fueled her more. "Catalina, stop!" Glozelle finally barked as he used all of his strength to force her into submission. Her struggles ceased but the hatred in her eyes nearly made Glozelle falter. "I'm sorry," he repeated in a softer tone. "It was cruel of me not to tell you of Peter's affections for Cara."

"Yes, it was," Catalina responded. Her tone was still cold, but the edges seemed warmer than they were before. Glozelle looked deeply into her eyes, his fingers lessening their tight grip on her arms as his lips moved steadily closer to hers.

Catalina's breath became shallow as Glozelle slowly inched closer. She could see the gold lining of his eyes and feel the warmth of his breath across her lips. Was he really going to do this now? After nearly tearing her heart from her chest and allowing her to make a fool of herself before Narnia's royal party, was he really going to attempt to kiss her?

With a heated shove Catalina forced Glozelle away from her body. He stared back at her with a dumfounded expression. Catalina held his heavy gaze before fumbling over the fallen buckets and mops and leaving Glozelle alone amidst the mess. He stared blankly at the spot that she had once occupied, his mind milling through the past few minutes in an attempt to discover what had gone so horrible wrong. Soon he followed her footsteps and left the broom closet behind.

Fairytales be damned.

BBBBBB

Peter did not know what had caused Cara's anger to instantly subside, but he was quite content to go along with it. After their earlier tiff, he had prepared for the full-war that arguing with Cara often became, but all of his mental preparations and calculated arguments went unused, for Cara sided up to him not long after the celebrations began, her fingers fitting perfectly between his and a brilliant smile back on her face.

At first Peter had instinctively tugged his fingers from Cara's, fear filling him that another girl was attempting to cause an additional bout of trouble, but after seeing that it was only Cara, Peter once again pulled her close to his side and retightened his grip around her fingers.

"Why did you pull away?" she had asked, her eyes creased with concern.

"I was afraid it wasn't you," Peter responded honestly. Cara laughed at Peter's response and rose on her toes to kiss his lips.

"Come dance with me," Cara commanded with a smile as she pulled Peter towards the mass of swaying bodies. He complied easily.

They spent the majority of the evening in each other's arms—a near repeat of the night before. The chandeliers took the place of the stars, their light more blinding than the dim twinkle of the night sky, and the air was still and heavier within the stone walls, but despite these changes the night seemed as perfect as the last.

Then, only a few minutes shy of midnight, Aslan moved past Peter's side. The High King followed, as did Susan, both strangely aware that the Great Lion had something of importance to discuss with them. Cara paid little attention to the exchange, her arms now wrapped tightly around Lucy as they moved amongst the other dancers.

Aslan led the two royals to a large balcony that overlooked the Shuddering Wood. Peter's heart thumped wildly in his chest. He could not pinpoint the exact reason behind his growing anxiety, but he knew in the deepest part of his soul that it concerned Cara. So when Aslan recalled the tale of the Sons of Adam and Daughters of Eve that defeated the White Witch and ruled over Narnia during her happiest years, Peter knew that the fear burning within him was justified.

"Calm your heart," Aslan whispered as his breath warmed Peter's face, but the usual feeling of immediate tranquility that accompanied the Great Lion did nothing for Peter's mounting anxiety. Instead, Peter's eyes closed as Aslan explained the importance of growing up and finding a home and a life in the world of their birth, and his fists clinched tightly when the words _leaving_ and _never return_ hit his ears.

The realization came too quickly for Peter or Susan to argue. It was over. Their final task was completed the moment that Caspian became King. The Kingdom of Narnia was no longer in need of her older sovereigns.

Peter walked numbly back to the Great Hall. Early that evening he had the world at his fingertips, now all he saw was blackness. Susan's mood seemed only slightly swayed by the news, her lips moving into a brilliant smile as they made their way back into the excited commotion. Peter could not force a smile if he had too.

And then there Cara was; a beautiful sight of slender curves and a blissful smile. Peter sighed as he eased himself into a lone chair and ran his fingers through his already tousled hair. He was going to have to ruin that smile. He was going to have to break her heart.

_I want to thank everyone that has reviewed thus far! I can't believe that this story is only two chapters away from being done :( Some of you have been with me from the very beginning, and I cannot even begin to tell you how much I appreciate your support. The next chapter is ALL Cara and Peter, so if you want to read it p__lease, please, please leave a review! _


	26. Fumbling Towards Ecstasy

_Well guys, here it is! I'm slightly nervous about this chapter. I'm not sure if it will ever be perfect in my eyes, but I hope that all of you enjoy it. I will caution you, their is sex in this chapter. It's not vulgar or explicit, but it is there. Please let me know what you think! I can't believe there is only one chapter left :( _

Chapter 24

Fumbling Towards Ecstasy

_All the fear has left me now  
I'm not frightened anymore  
It's my heart that pounds beneath my flesh  
It's my mouth that pushes out this breath_

_And if I shed a tear I won't cage it_  
_I won't fear love_  
_And if I feel a rage I won't deny it_  
_I won't fear love_

_-Fumbling Towards Ecstasy, Sarah McLachlan _

The smile faded from Cara's face the moment her eyes caught sight of Peter. He sat alone and dejected in the corner of the Great Hall. His golden hair was disheveled and his normally vibrant blue eyes seemed vacant against the celebration that surrounded him.

Cara's worried gaze found his. She offered him a hesitant smile, the warmth within it an attempt to elicit some happiness from Peter. The reaction she received was deeper sadness; utter misery that flowed across the moving, bliss filled room and wrapped itself harshly around Cara's heart. Dread consumed her, for she knew that this was not a shallow grief, but a debilitating sorrow that only came from changes far beyond their control.

Cara's first thought was of death.

She moved instantly, her feet fumbling forward without a thought beyond reaching Peter and finding some semblance of reassurance in his touch. His eyes stayed locked with hers as she pushed herself through the crowd, the music and movement nothing more than a blur to both of them. Cara crumbled to her knees when she reached Peter, her delicate hands grasping is legs as she pressed herself closely to his body.

Peter made no move to hold her. Instead he watched her with glossy eyes, his shoulders slumping even more as Cara begged him for an explanation. "Tell me," she whispered. "Tell me what happened."

Absentmindedly, Peter's fingers trailed along Cara's arms, his featherlike touch sending shivers over her body. Finally his hands wrapped tightly around her forearms, and in one swift motion Cara found herself pulled onto Peter's lap as his mouth covered hers. The kiss was desperate. Cara could feel Peter's heart drumming under her fingertips as his arms pulled her body flush against his. His tongue melded with hers as she kissed him back with near has much fever, both attempting to lose their fears within each other.

Slowly Peter pulled away, his lips lingering on Cara's as he continued to place soft kisses against his skin. "Peter," Cara breathed as he buried his golden head between her neck and shoulder, his warm breath moistening her skin. "You're scaring me."

Peter sighed; a sound of resignation. Cara felt Peter's body sag heavily against hers before he pulled completely away. "Come," Peter said as he helped Cara from his lap and climbed to his feet. She obeyed, her fingers clinging to his as they weaved their way between the celebration and out of the Great Hall. Cara paid little attention as Peter led her up stairs and down corridors, her mind too preoccupied with varying painful scenarios to focus on anything beyond her own morbid thoughts.

It wasn't until the sound of a massive door clicking open echoed around the hall that Cara's mind came to. They now stood at the threshold of a massive, ornate room, which Cara could only guess was Peter's courters. He ushered her inside before closing the door softly behind him.

"Sit." Peter gestured to a small bench in the center of the room. Cara looked at the piece of furniture with apprehension. "Please."

Peter watched as Cara covered the ground in a few timid steps and eased herself into a sitting position. He regarded her for a moment. The fear in her eyes was as blatant as the tremble that her rigid body was attempting to mask. With an agonizing sigh, Peter tore his eyes away, and ran his fingers through his already ragged hair.

Even looking at her hurt.

Fighting the clenching in his chest, Peter prayed for a way to not tell her; a way to not ruin the last moments that they would ever have together with the truth of what tomorrow would bring. He wanted to lose himself in their fantasies of the future—adventures, marriage, children—he wanted to return to the night before when the stars glowed above them, when the only worry in his mind was whether or not to stop. Suddenly Peter's mind filled with impossible scenarios of escape—running, hiding away beyond the mountains of Archenland and sand dunes of Calormen in a land too distant and too wild to ever be found.

"Peter, please just te—"

"I'm leaving."

Peter immediately diverted his gaze from Cara's. He had hoped to tell her with more compassion, but the words escaped from his lips before he could constrain them. Perhaps his subconscious knew that disguising the truth would only cause them both more pain.

"Leaving?" Cara questioned after a long moment of silence. She hadn't expected that response. Death, war, treachery, and a hundred other horrible adjectives had consumed her mind over the past few minutes, but Peter was always beside her as each individual possibility flicked past. Her mind couldn't even comprehend _leaving_. "Wh—here?"

"Home." Peter walked slowly to his chamber's balcony and looked mournfully across the landscape below. He could see miles of rolling, grass covered hills congested with dense patches of dark trees, and the occasional gleam of moving water as it reflected the light of the moon. Was this not his home? Was Narnia not the world that he truly belonged to?

"I don't understand," Cara said softly. Peter didn't understand either. Not completely.

With a sigh Peter returned his attention to Cara. She sat erect and still on the bench, her fingers clenched together in her lap, and her eyes brimming with fear and filled with confusion. "Tomorrow we—my siblings and I," Peter stuttered out, "—are returning to where we came from."

"Like before?" Cara questioned. She felt slightly better. They had returned before.

Peter nodded his head in response. "When will you return?" she continued in a small voice. "I certainly hope it's not longer than a few hundred years. I don't think turning back to stone will be good for my complexion." Peter winced at Cara's attempted humor, her weak laugh chipping away at his already faltering composure.

"Susan and I aren't coming back."

Cara's laugh immediately stopped, and even though the sound of it had pained Peter, he realized that utter silence was far worse. Cara inhaled a sharp breath before rising from the bench and turning her back to Peter. "Am I going with you?" she asked in a choked whisper. The air became tense as Cara awaited Peter's reply, her body aching with tension as she attempted to keep her composure. Not an hour ago her entire life had made sense. Now it seemed torn. Purposeless. Had Aslan lied to her those years ago?

"No."

The word seemed as absolute to Peter as it was to Cara. He was leaving and never coming back. There was no adventure to the Lone Islands; no marriage; no children; no future of any kind. All that remained were the dwindling hours that fell between the present darkness and the blinding light of the morning.

Cara's eyes closed, a few tears escaping and weaving their way down her cheeks. She knew Peter was awaiting a response, but what could she say? _Safe journey? Please write?_ Even now her sarcastic personality was mocking her own pain.

"Edmund and Lucy shall return someday," Peter added once the silence became too heavy to bear. Cara's only reaction was a choked sob, her shoulders becoming tight as she fought to contain the building pressure in her chest.

Unable to cope with her pain, Peter reached for Cara instantly, his fingers gripping her waist and turning her body towards his in one swift motion. Cara lost herself against Peter's chest. Her fingers clung tightly to his tunic as she hid her face, the feel of Peter's arms around her making it nearly impossible to contain the tears for any longer.

"I love you." Peter's voice was confident, yet strained, the emotions building within him as difficult to control as Cara's. "No matter what world I live in; no matter how far apart we may be in time or age or distance, I love you." Cara's control crumbled away at Peter's confession, her body shaking with ragged breaths and unconstrained sobs. Peter held her tighter, both for her support and his own.

"I don't understand," Cara choked out as she pulled her head away from Peter's chest.

"Susan and I have gotten too old," Peter attempted to explain.

"No!" Cara shouted as she pushed herself from Peter's grasp and looked at him with red, frantic eyes. "He told me when I was crowned High Queen that my status had a purpose—a meaning—th—that I was your equal…" Cara's voice dropped off at the end of her rant, her eyes transforming from wild to crestfallen.

Hearing aloud what she had so ardently believed made all of her previous convictions seem childish. Aslan never alleged that Cara was meant to be anything more than an aid to the High King, and even in the time before she met him, the thought of love had never crossed her mind. It wasn't until she became besotted with Peter that she began to manipulate Aslan's words into something more. She had created a fairytale around their existence; a love that knew no bounds; a love that meant connected souls and constant happiness; a love that didn't exist.

Peter seemed to follow Cara's train of thought, for his eyes fell as hers did, both realizing at the same moment that their love was not special, not protected by some fantastical force. "I've been so stupid," Cara said softly as she averted her gaze from Peter's.

"No," Peter responded. "I won't accept that." Cara returned her eyes to Peter immediately. She looked skeptical. "I love you," Peter said with conviction. "Nothing can change that." He looked so determined that Cara almost believed him.

Almost.

"Just like nothing can change the fact that you're leaving and never coming back." Cara's voice cracked as another wave of tears enveloped her. She turned away from Peter, outwardly ashamed of her tears now that her foolishness was realized.

Peter stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her from behind, his lips brushing against the tender skin at the nape of her neck. "How much longer do we have?" Cara asked softly.

"Until morning."

Hours. All they had were hours.

Cara knew then what she wanted. Slowly, she pulled away from Peter's grasp and turned to look at him.

Peter watched with red rimmed eyes as Cara returned her body to his and rested her forehead against his shoulder. After a moment, Cara's head turned until her lips came into contact with the warmth of Peter's skin. Cara could feel Peter's pulse quicken under her tongue as she placed open-mouthed kisses across his neck, her tear-soaked cheek rubbing lightly against his jaw. Peter sighed, his fingers grasping hold of Cara's arms. He pulled her closer, his breathing becoming ragged as Cara continued to taste him.

"Make me forget, Peter," Cara whispered into his neck. "I need to forget." Peter pushed Cara back slightly, his fingers leaving her arms to trail across her face and into her hair. Peter kissed Cara softly before grazing his lips along her jaw, then down her neck, and across her collarbone.

Cara arched into him, her hair falling completely over her back as she exposed as much skin to Peter as her gown allowed. Her tears had all but abated. Lone droplets formed when she closed her eyes, but they no longer flowed freely. She needed this. They both needed this.

Peter moaned against Cara's skin, the noise eliciting a tremor that originated in her abdomen and spread outward. She forced herself even closer to Peter's body, her heart soaring when he moaned again. Peter's fingers left Cara's hair to travel along the length of her body. He gripped her hips as his tongue dipped low on her chest. Cara gasped at the sensation, her moans growing as Peter continued to trail his lips across the tops of her breasts.

Somewhere in the back of Peter's mind a small voice told him to stop. His body was already tense and ready and wanting nothing more than to rip Cara's gown from her body and show her how much he wished he wasn't leaving; how much he wished he could promise her forever. Steadily the voice became louder, and with reluctance Peter pulled his lips away from Cara's chest and rested his forehead against hers.

Both were breathing sporadically; warm, moist, sweet breaths that brought them more comfort than Aslan's breath ever could. They stood like that for a long moment, their heads together, and their arms wrapped loosely around each other. Finally, Cara looked to Peter, her dark eyes once again brimming with tears. Peter's strength instantly crumbled away. The tightness in his chest finally surpassing the point that he could control, and after one last agonizing breath, his tears began to fall.

He cried openly; consistent, shallow breaths pushed past his parted lips as his tears zigzagged down his cheeks and onto Cara's chest. "Pe—ter," Cara whispered, her tears moving from a steady flow to a shaky sob. He kissed her then. It was haphazard and sloppy, both desperately fighting to control the emotions that were pouring out of them.

This couldn't be it. Their love couldn't be over.

As their lips and tears continued to unite, Cara's fingers fumbled with Peter's belt. Her fingers were shaking from both fear and anticipation, but after one well placed tug the belt loosened and fell to the floor. Peter inhaled sharply as the cool air filtered up his gapping tunic and caressed his skin. The voice instantly returned, but this time Peter brushed it aside.

Propriety be damned.

Cara's fingers rested hesitantly along the top of Peter's trousers, his warm skin brushing across them every time he breathed. Peter intensified their kiss, a blatant invitation for Cara to continue. He awaited her next move, his hands staying securely around Cara's waist. He would not push her; he would _never_ push her.

Slowly Cara's fingers left Peter's hips and trailed lightly up his torso and across his chest. Peter moaned; a deep, primal sound that nearly sent Cara off the edge. With a sudden burst of confidence, Cara's fingers left Peter's chest and returned to the bottom of his tunic. She pulled away from Peter's lips and pushed the fabric higher up Peter's torso. Following her lead, Peter raised his hands in the air and allowed Cara to pull his tunic completely off.

Cara's eyes took in the sight before her. She had seen Peter like this before, even washed the skin now exposed to her, but like this—alone in Peter's chambers, with the room so tense with emotion that it was hard to breath or think, and with Cara's stomach so constricted and tingly that she wanted nothing more than to be _touched_—everything seemed different. She didn't want to just see Peter's skin, she wanted to taste it.

So she did.

The noise the Peter made when Cara's lips grazed his chest was euphoric. His hands moved to Cara's back as she continued to kiss and lick and nibble her way across Peter's chest. Hazy with lust, Peter's fingers fumbled with the ties on Cara's gown. They were thin and tight and so frustrating that Peter nearly pulled the knife from his belt and simply slashed them open.

Finally they began to loosen, and after a few long moments of tugging Peter felt the gown give beneath his fingers. Cara stepped away from him then, her arms wrapped tightly around her chest as her gown drooped over her shoulders. For a moment Peter became worried. Had he gone too far?

The look in Cara's eyes indicated the very opposite. She took a shaky breath before forgoing the hold she had on her gown, which slowly rolled over her shoulders before slipping smoothly to the ground. Peter's body became instantly aware that Cara was now naked before him, but he kept his eyes securely on her face. Cara's lips nearly twitched into a smile at Peter's decency, but she wanted him to look at her; wanted him to see all of her.

"Look at me, Peter." Cara's cheeks were burning, and the cool air was already making her body taut, but she forced her hands to stay at her sides and her voice to remain strong.

Peter couldn't tell if it was the command, or the way that Cara said his name that made his body flush with heat, but it truly didn't matter, for the reaction was just the same. He held her eyes for a moment longer before finally allowing them to drop. Peter went painstakingly slow, making sure that every curve of Cara's body was ingrained into his memory. He would never see Cara like this again. He had to remember everything.

Cara attempted to remain composed as Peter's eyes moved past her shoulders and lingered on her chest. Was she adequate? She didn't really even know what that meant, but the expression on Peter's face gave her hope. He seemed entranced. Cara watched as his eyes continued to move downward, each new inch causing his breathing to increase and his body to tighten.

Finally Peter's gaze returned to Cara's. He said nothing, opting instead to bring her body flush against his as he captured her mouth in a deep, slow kiss. Cara instantly realized that skin on skin contact was a thousand times more thrilling. Peter's hands blazed trails along her back and over her hips, her previous fear dwindling away with each new touch.

Cara's hands made their way to Peter's trousers on their own accord. After a few moments of awkward fumbling, and a tear doused laugh from Peter, they finally came free and fell to the ground. Cara had never seen a man naked before. She wasn't a child— she understood how their bodies worked—but that didn't keep a blush from covering her face as her eyes took in all of Peter for the first time.

Peter remained calm, his eyes gauging Cara's reaction as she looked timidly down his length. Her blush deepened the further her eyes went, but before long she had returned them to Peter's face. He smiled softly down at her, his fingers trailing along her cheek and through her hair. "We don't have to do this," he stated.

"I have to know," Cara replied. The look of confusion on Peter's face urged her to explain. "I expected a lifetime with you," Cara continued as she cast her eyes towards the ground. "I don't want to go through my life never knowing what that life could have been."

"It won't make it any easier, Cara," Peter countered.

"No," Cara agreed, "it won't."

Peter regarded Cara softly before nodding his head in understanding and taking hold of her hand. She followed his lead as he ushered her onto the bed, her head dizzy with lust and nerves, and her chest heavy with the tears yet to come and the ache of a breaking heart.

Cara held her legs tightly together as Peter crawled beside her and placed chaste kisses across her face. Slowly his fingers massaged across her chest and down her stomach, her body tightening in a tantalizing, yet frustrating way. Just when the tension became unbearable, Peter's fingers found her core. She gasped, the awkwardness once again overridden by the amazing new sensations coursing through her body.

"Peter," Cara choked out as her hands gripped his shoulders and pulled him even harder against her. He silenced her with a deep kiss, his damp cheeks cool against her burning skin.

Just as Cara felt herself falling away, Peter removed his fingers and covered her body with his. Cara could feel him completely, her legs falling open without a thought as Peter settled between them. She was filled with a earning that she could barely explain, but the look in Peter's eyes told her that it didn't matter. He would lead her.

And he did.

Both moved together in an ancient dance that was laced with tears and moans and words of love that neither would ever forget. Some points were awkward; some slightly painful, but Peter's soft voice in Cara's ear led her forward and kept her secure.

The moon had began her decent by the time the moans quieted into soft whispers and chaste kisses. Neither wished to fall asleep, but after hours of fighting to hold onto her last precious moments with Peter, Cara's exhaustion finally overtook her. Her cheeks were crusty with dried tears and her eyes were still puffy and tinged with red. Peter didn't care. She was beautiful; breathtakingly, heartbreakingly, beautiful. And in the quiet moment just before dawn when nearly all of the world in asleep, she was his.

As Peter ran his fingers softly over Cara's curves and through her hair, he began to imagine that tonight had been their wedding night; that Cara's tear stained cheeks were from utter happiness; that in the morning he would wake her up with soft kisses, and that she would smile lazily up at him as he crawled back on top of her and reminded her again and again how much he loved her and how long forever could be.

Peter cried silently as his mind construed the future that would never be; a future that he had once mapped out in years. Now days weren't even viable. Hours were the most practical, but as the time ticked on, minutes and seconds became Peter's favorite. Less than three hours. A hundred and sixty minutes. Nine thousand six hundred seconds. The latter number brought Peter the most comfort. It was large and difficult to decipher how the other measures of time fit into it. He could pretend that nine thousand seconds equaled a hundred years.

He could pretend they had forever.

_Please, please, PLEASE review. _


	27. The Other Telmarine

Chapter 25

The Other Telmarine

Peter knew he was alone before his brain could even form a coherent thought. It was a feeling more than anything; a deep sense of loss that made his stomach constrict in a sickening way. The sensation cut into his quiet dreams like ink spilled on a piece of stark white paper. It began slowly, the black tendrils weaving forward, their lines growing outward as Peter's dreams slowly began to vanish. He fought to remain in the clouded state between sleep and waking, but every passing second seemed to pull his conscious into sharper focus. Finally his eyes fluttered open, his gut twisting even tighter as he caught sight of the vacant spot beside him.

The room was dim; the only light trickling in from the balcony as the sun slowly began to peek over the trees. A cool breeze rustled the curtains creating muted shadows along the chamber's far wall and along the floor. The noises of morning—birds mainly, with the occasional shout or laugh from one of the day's early risers—drifted in from the windows and under the doors.

Peter noticed none of this, his senses too dull to see anything beyond the cool, disheveled blankets where Cara had lain not an hour before. His reached for the spot absentmindedly. The night seemed long ago, a distant reverie that he attempted to recall with clarity, but his mind couldn't decipher what was real and what was embellishment. The muted memories scared him. Only a few hours had past and Cara was already slipping away. Soon she would be nothing more than a void in his heart and a few clear characteristics that no amount of time could erase—her laugh; her smile—the feel of her lips against his. Cara would become like Narnia. A place that he could barely remember, but he knew he belonged.

"Pete?"

Peter's fingers grasped the sheets tightly before releasing their hold. He rolled onto his back just as Edmund cracked the main door and peered in. "Peter?" he repeated in a weary voice.

"Yes?" Peter responded, his voice breaking roughly.

"You alone?" Edmund questioned as he pushed his head a little further into the room.

Peter rubbed his eyes and attempted to control the emotions that were suddenly compressing his chest. "Yes."

Edmund slipped into the chamber and closed the door softly behind him. He held in his hand a small mug of something steaming and smelling heavily of honey. Peter regarded the drink with apprehension.

"From Dr. Cornelius," Edmund explained as he handed Peter the concoction forcing the High King to lift himself quickly into a sitting position. After sending Edmund an un-amused glare, Peter lowered his nose and inhaled a small whiff of the drink.

"What rancid ingredient is this ludicrous amount of honey attempting to mask?" Peter questioned with a look of disgust.

"Just drink it," Edmund replied in a tired tone. "The good Dr. said it would wake you up and…soften the blow," he added after noticing that Peter still seemed uninterested in the drink.

"Soften the blow," Peter whispered with a sardonic chuckle before placing his lips against the mug and taking a small sip. "I take it you know then?"

"Susan."

Edmund's answer seemed decent enough for Peter, for he did not question him any further. Instead the two sat it silence, Peter sipping his drink and Edmund taking in Peter's disheveled form.

Although Edmund had found Peter alone, the state of the bed and the smell of the chamber indicated that his solitude was recent. Even the thick smell of honey wafting from Peter's drink couldn't mask the tang of lovemaking that still hung in the air. Peter's untamed hair and salt coated skin where only further proof that Cara had stayed within Peter's reach throughout the night.

Under different circumstances Edmund would have offered Peter a sly remark about the previous night's obvious events, but he knew what today was bringing, and he knew what that meant for Peter.

Edmund had seen the look in Peter's eyes when he and Susan returned after Aslan had whisked them away to discuss a topic that Edmund only half cared to know. He witnessed Cara rushing to Peter's side and how he, in turn, clung to her as if she was going to be ripped from his arms. Edmund lost sight of the two after that moment, but later, after Susan had happily explained what was to come, he knew where they had gone too, and he prayed to Aslan that they were able to find some amount of solace in their last night together.

Looking at Peter now, Edmund could not decide if solace was even possible, but his mind still filled with various statements and ideas that might bring Peter some form of comfort.

After a long moment of silence Edmund attempted to voice one of the many thoughts racing through his head. "Perhaps," he began before running his fingers swiftly through his hair and mumbling over a few words that Peter could not even begin to decipher. "It's possible—"

"Ed," Peter quickly interrupted. Edmund instantly ended his failed attempt at reassurance, his eyes glancing everywhere but at Peter. "There is nothing to say," Peter added offhandedly as he pushed himself from the bed dragging a lone sheet along for modesty's sake.

"How is Cara?" Edmund asked suddenly. Peter remained silent as he dropped the sheet to the floor and pulled a new pair of trousers over his legs. Edmund watched him cautiously, unsure if his question was a topic that was open for discussion.

"Devastated," Peter finally responded with down turned eyes and a soft voice. "Brokenhearted. Confused. Inconsolable. Pick your poison, for they all fit." After taking one last sip of Sr. Cornelius' soothing concoction, Peter tossed the mug into the cold fireplace; it shattered against the gray stone, the sound ricocheting up the chimney.

Edmund watched Peter's sudden outburst of emotion, his forehead wrinkling as Peter placed his head in hands and sighed deeply. Another sigh followed the first, but it was choked and guttural. Finally Peter's shoulders began to tremble. The movement was small; proof that Peter was attempting to mask his tears, but the action only tore Edmund's heart more.

"I don't want to leave her," Peter whispered through his tears.

"Cara is strong," Edmund replied.

"You didn't see her face," Peter shouted as his fingers dropped revealing his red, swollen eyes and damp cheeks. "You didn't hold her as she cried throughout the night. You didn't make love to her thinking the entire time that you will never feel this way again."

"Cara is strong," Edmund repeated in the same even tone, "and so are you."

Peter said nothing, opting instead to shake his head cynically. "Have faith in Aslan, Peter. There must be a reason behind all of this." Peter glanced up at Edmund's words, his face contorted as if he was thinking deeply.

"I've conjured up so many scenarios where we end up together," Peter finally replied, "but they all seem so absurd, so impossible."

"Defeating the Telmarines seemed impossible, but now look where we are," Edmund answered with a passionate gesture.

The two brothers regarded each other for a long moment. Peter's face was still blotched with red, but the tightness in his jaw seemed to lessen with each passing moment. "You're right," he finally replied. "You're absolutely right."

BBBBBB

Catalina was so consumed with her own self-pity and hatred for the opposite sex, that she had little clue as to the condition of the royal party's emotions, or their sudden change in plans. Truly, she didn't even realize that anything was afoot until another serving girl gossiped to her about the newly crowned King Caspian calling forth a special gathering for all to hear the Great Lion speak.

"I'm sure it is nothing to worry yourself over," Catalina replied. "It's most likely a continuation of the coronation."

The two girls were shoved into a small corner along one of the Castle's many corridors; Catalina bearing a load of laundry and the other balancing numerous plates of food upon one of her bulky shoulders. Catalina was rather bored with the entire conversation, her mind too preoccupied with all of the ways to avoid Glozelle to care about anything else, but the younger girl was quite adamant that _this_ was gossip that Catalina simply _had_ to hear.

"That's what Rodric supposed," the serving girl, whose name Catalina could never seem to remember, said before pulling Catalina closer and moving her eyes around as if she expected someone to be eaves dropping on their conversation, "but I think it's more than that. Clovis saw the High Queen walking through the corridors early this morn. He said her dress was completely askew, and her face flowing with tears. He said she came from the High King's chambers."

Catalina was taken aback by this news, but she stopped the gasp that threatened to spill from her lips. Instead she made her face hard and stepped away from the other girl. "Don't dawdle in the business of the royals. Their personal lives are of no concern to you, and what Clovis _claims_ he saw probably has no connection to the new King's gathering."

The other girl looked miffed at Catalina's retort, her mousy features turning into a grotesque scowl. "Always were haughty…" she seethed under her breath before turning away from Catalina, her tray tipping slightly as she disappeared around a corner.

Catalina watched the girl go before hitching the laundry basket high upon her hip and continuing on her way towards Prunaprismia's chambers. A part of her wanted to abandon her duties and discover what was truly plaguing the royal party, but she ignored the urge. Instead, she indulged the inherently feminine need to gossip by filling her mind with images of a frumpy, tear-streaked High Queen. Catalina attempted a variety of images, each created in the hope of making her feel slightly better about her current situation, but they triggered a completely opposite train of thought.

What had caused Cara so much sorrow? It couldn't have been the High King—No, definitely not—Catalina had witnessed first hand Peter's affection for _her_. The thought almost made Catalina roll her eyes in contempt.

Love. What a horridly horrendous word.

Catalina half expected to feel some sort of happiness at the idea of a lover's quarrel involving two seemingly perfect people, but she felt no such relief or pleasure. If anything she felt worse. Did love ever actually make people happy? Thus far she had only seen it cause exorbitant amounts of pain. The word seemed to always have a hazy shadow of dread clinging to it. In some cases one was tempted with feelings of pure happiness, but that was only before the conditions of life ripped it from your chest—quite literally at times. The other scenario was the one that Catalina found herself trapped within. The unrequited love; the one-sided passion that the storybooks seemed to always ignore.

Further proving her point, Catalina found Prunaprismia crying on her balcony when she finally made her way into the late Queen's chambers. Prunaprismia completely ignored Catalina, which was not uncommon, but the constant sound of shaky breaths made the entire situation increasingly more awkward than usual.

Catalina wanted to scream.

And she would have, if a few mumbled words from Prunaprismia had not first caught her attention. Although Catalina could barely decipher what her Lady had said, she did catch _wench _and _my garden_, which was intriguing enough to extinguish Catalina's earlier bought of anger. In an attempt to be coy, Catalina slowly made her way over to window parallel to Prunaprismia and pretended to fix the curtains.

It took her a moment of searching to find what Prunaprismia was talking about, but her heart constricted when she finally did. The High Queen was barely visible between the pink azaleas and yellow honeysuckle, but the sadness in her demeanor was still apparent. Clovis was clearly honest in his depiction of the morning's unusual happenings, and as before, Catalina felt another bought of hatred for the sickening sweet emotion that always turned bitter at the end.

She also recalled the kindness that Cara had shown her the day before. Even though the entire situation had not turned out as Catalina had expected, the night's events were of no fault of the High Queen. If anything, Cara had shown Catalina more kindness than Prunaprismia ever could. This realization refused to leave Catalina's mind, and after sending one quick glance towards her Lady, Catalina rushed from the room and made her way towards the gardens.

Later she would wonder what had elicited such a need to console Cara, but in the present moment she thought little of her impulsive decision. It wasn't until she sped around a wall of climbing roses and caught the attention of the crestfallen High Queen that her actions began to feel rather silly.

Cara regarded her kindly, nothing behind her eyes accusing or questioning. "You're Majesty," Catalina said in a quick breath as she curtsied stiffly. The High Queen said nothing, her back and jaw so tight that both were nearly trembling. Cara's state was also vastly different from what Catalina had earlier imagined. Yes, her face was red and her eyes puffy with unshed tears, but she was still regal. The gown she wore was not the same as the night before. It was form fitting and effortless, nothing about it elaborate or ornate. Her hair was down in wild waves, with numerous haphazard pieces shielding her face, which Catalina could only guess was completely on purpose.

Despite the rampant rumors running through the castle—most of which placed the High Queen in a dim light—Catalina felt incredibly uncivilized next to the younger woman. With this thought filling her mind, Catalina looked awkwardly at the flowers surrounding them before returning her eyes to Cara and clearing her throat. "I saw you from the window," she muttered with a haphazard gesture towards the stone wall behind her. Cara glanced at the wall but said nothing. "I thought—no—perhaps—no," Catalina stuttered out before sighing deeply and closing her eyes. "Forgive me, you're Majesty." Catalina ended the strange exchange with a short crusty and a quick turn on her heel.

"Cat?" Cara's voice was hoarse, but even, the sound causing Catalina to stop abruptly. After a moment she turned back towards the Queen.

"May I call you that?" Cara asked once the two were once again facing each other.

"If it pleases you," Catalina replied shyly.

Cara's stony features flashed soft in a moment of vulnerability, her appearance looking more like a lonely girl than the Queen she was, but the change was quick, with only few seconds slipping by before her face once again hardened. "Were you sent to check on me?"

Catalina's eyes narrowed at the question. "No," she stated firmly. Cara gave no response, the weight of her stare forcing Catalina to elaborate on the true reason behind her adventure to the gardens. "You seem pained," Catalina finally explained. "I only wanted to offer some form of consolation."

Cara's face immediately returned to its softened state. "Are my emotions that easily detected?" she asked with a strained smile as she walked quietly over to a stony bench and sat down. Catalina didn't know how to answer. Royals were fickle, proud people; the truth was not always the safest route to take. Still, she could not bring herself to lie to the Queen before her.

"Yes." The response was simple, and it enticed a look from Cara that made Catalina positively sure that she had gone too far.

Then Cara laughed. It was weak and teary, but it was sincere. "I think I'm going to like you," Cara managed to say through her sounds of choked amusement. "Here," she added as she patted an open seat beside her, "sit with me."

Catalina complied, though hesitantly. After a moment Cara's laughter died down into muffled sighs. "I'm sure you're wondering why I have no composure today," Cara stated as she rubbed her face with her hands. "And I must commend you on your control, for you have managed to not press."

"You need not tell me anything," Catalina responded quickly, her body instinctively recoiling.

"No—no." Cara's slender hand grasped Catalina's wrist as she went to move. "Sit," she added with pleading eyes. "Peter's sisters have been no comfort to me. That's why I came here, really; to escape the ever soothing words of Queen Susan the Gentle." The bite in Cara's voice was easily noticeable.

Catalina couldn't help but smile. She knew little about the High King's _Gentle_ sister, but in her short time with her, Catalina had managed to decipher a rather judgmental tone in nearly everything the Queen said or did.

In the time that Catalina had mused to herself about the Gentle Queen Susan, Cara's face had returned to its blank state with her eyes staring unfocused at a flowering bush across the way. Her abdomen and thighs were aching in a foreign way. The pain was dull and constant, with changes in position causing it to increase for short bouts of time. She concentrated on the hurt, for it was far less painful than the tear that was now in her heart.

Slowly the tears began to fall. They were silent and few, but they were enough to draw Catalina's attention away from her own thoughts. Cara's hands we placed securely over her stomach where her body seemed to bend slightly as if protecting itself. Cautiously, Catalina wrapped her arm around Cara's shoulder and pulled her tenderly to her chest. The Queen followed easily, her tears cooling Catalina's skin as she rested against her.

The two stayed like that until the sound of a nearby bell echoed throughout the castle.

"The gathering," Catalina stated in one quick breath as she went to detach herself from Cara. The High Queen gathered herself up gradually, obviously less enthusiastic about the entire ordeal.

"We should probably hurry." Catalina was already standing and shaking her skirts out by the time Cara had managed to sit up straight and wipe the tears from her eyes.

"I'm not going," Cara replied.

"But you must," Catalina insisted. "Don't you wish to hear your Lord speak? Perhaps his words will bring you comfort."

"It is his words that have destroyed me," Cara retorted resentfully. The anger in her voice shocked Catalina, but the feeling did not last long, for only a moment later Catalina crouched before Cara and pushed a few stray hairs from her face.

"Then show him you are strong."

BBBBBB

Peter felt slightly less miserable as he walked towards the large courtyard where the gathering was to be held. His siblings surrounded him, all with their chins held high and their eyes attempting to show some form of excitement. None wanted to leave, but only Peter tasted the true bitterness of what the action actually meant.

Only Edmund's words and Dr. Cornelius' strange drink seemed to bring Peter any form of comfort. Even though he knew in his heart of hearts that he and Cara were parting, Peter attempted to cling to the hope that Aslan had some further plan for both of them.

Much of the castle was already assembled by the time the Four had arrived and made their way to Aslan and Caspian, who were situated higher than the rest and near a large, gnarly tree. Aslan greeted them with a nod of his head, while Caspian offered a weary smile. Glenstorm, Trumpkin, Reepicheep, and Dr. Cornelius were also present, though they stood off to the side and a little further back.

Peter led his siblings off to the side as well; he had no reason to speak, and therefore no reason to be the center of attention. If anything, Peter wanted nothing more than to disappear. Lucy waved a hello at Trumpkin, while Edmund and Susan talked quietly with each other. Peter occupied his time by attempting to locate Cara in the mass before him. He wanted to see her one last time, even if the moment would only make the entire situation worse.

"I thank all of you for coming today." Caspian's voice cut sharply through Peter's thoughts, whose eyes began frantically searching for Cara at the realization that he might leave without ever seeing her again. "I know that some of you are wary of the changes that have recently occurred, but Narnia belongs to the Narnians just as it does to man. Any Telmarines who want to stay and live in peace are welcome to, but for any of you who wish, Aslan will return you to the home of our forefathers."

"It's been generations since we left Telmar," a man that Peter did not recognize stated from beside Glozelle and Prunaprismia. The crowd began to shout words of agreement.

"We're not referring to Telmar." Aslan's voice was loud and deep, the sound calming some and terrifying others. "Your ancestors were seafaring brigands—pirates run aground on an island. There they found a cave, a rare chasm that brought them here from their world; the same world as our Kings and Queens."

Peter and Susan looked instantly to each other before sharing glances with Lucy and Edmund. None had expected this. It seemed logical, as they were once the only humans in Narnia, but the idea of others coming from their world to Narnia brought about feelings of intrusion.

"It is to that island I can return you," Aslan continued. "It is a good place for any who wish to make a new start; a good place for any who can no longer call Narnia home."

The latter part of Aslan's speech seemed to be directed to a small corner near the back of the group. Slowly the crowd turned, all attempting to find the one person that had wholeheartedly captured the Great Lion's attention.

Carefully a figured stepped forward. Peter strained to see who it was, but it took a few long moments of the crowd parting for him to finally catch a glimpse. His breath hitched in his throat when he did, and it took all of his strength and the tightness of Edmund's hand on his forearm to keep him from running towards her.

No matter what state Cara was in, Peter had and would always find her breathtaking. Apart from the redness that covered her face and the hand that was clinging tightly to another who was trailing her, she looked every bit the High Queen that she was.

After a moment of walking, Cara glanced quickly towards Peter, her eyes sad with longing and regret. The sight filled Peter's mind with visions from the night before, but they were different from the morning's vague memories. They were vivid and enhanced with moans and whispers. Peter's stomach tightened as he continued to remember. There had to be another option. He could no longer believe that this was the end.

Finally Cara reached Aslan, at which time the person trailing her, who Peter soon recognized as the maid that had nearly ruined his afternoon the day before, whispered something in her ear before releasing her hand and stepping away.

"Dear Heart," Aslan started as he sat lightly onto his haunches, "why do you tremble? Come; let me breathe on you." Cara closed her eyes as Aslan's warm, sweet breath caressed her face. The weakness in her limbs instantly dissolved, and a smoothing, fluid sensation filled her body. With one last, deep sigh, Cara's eyes fluttered open. The world already seemed brighter.

"You," Aslan continued, "like the rest of your people, have a choice."

"I don't understand," Cara responded in an even tone. Truly, she didn't even understand why she was there. The simple sight of Peter was already bringing forth another bout of tears. What would she do when she actually had to watch him go?

"Caspian is not the first Telmarine to save Narnia," Aslan stated confidently.

Cara's heart all but stopped. Was Aslan implying that she—Cara Noor, High Queen of Narnia, Protector of Cair Paravel, and creator of Aslan's How—was a _Telmarine_? Cara's anger immediately overcame all feelings of sadness and fear.

"I am no Telmarine," Cara responded, her voice suddenly thick and vehement.

Aslan seemed unfazed by her denial, his twitching tail the only indication of his emotions. "In heart, you may not consider yourself among the people that so long ago destroyed the castle that you called home, and murdered the creatures that you called family, but your blood is their blood, and your forefathers are their forefathers."

Cara stood silently, her eyes shifting quickly over to Peter. She felt overwhelmed and unexpectedly alone. Peter offered her a small nod of encouragement, his chest swelling with hope at the possibilities that arose with Aslan's words, but the fear in Cara's eyes kept that hope from completely filling him.

"Will I return with Peter?" Cara questioned with her gaze still locked on the High King.

"No," Aslan stated simply, his words causing both Cara and Peter to looking quickly towards him, "you will return to the island from whence you came."

"But this island is in my world?" Peter interjected as he stepped closer to Cara and Aslan. The Great Lion regarded Peter with warm, calm eyes.

"Yes."

"I'll find you," Peter stated with conviction as he grasped Cara's fingers firmly between his own. His world was vast and filled with unimaginable dangers, but none of that mattered now. Peter relished the promise of adventure and the knowledge that he and Cara would not be separated by an impenetrable wall of time and space.

But when Cara's eyes found Peter's they were wide with uncertainty. Only moments ago she came to watch the man she loved depart to a place that she could not follow. She had resigned herself to the fact that her adventures where over; that life would now be nothing more than a quiet existence in a Kingdom that she had once called her own. She could survive if Peter was beside her—she knew that—but how long would it be until that moment was possible?

Months? _Years_?

"Cara," Peter whispered as his fingers trailed down her cheek, "please."

"I'll go." Everyone turned at the wispy sound of a female voice.

"Catalina?" Cara questioned as the girl stepped forward, her eyes looking only at Aslan.

"I'll accept the offer." Catalina's voice was far stronger than before, and with determination she moved beyond Cara and Peter and towards the Great Lion.

"So will I." The crowd erupted into mumbles as the General that they loved so well followed.

Catalina's face turned a deep shade of red as Glozelle climbed the steps to stand beside her. "If it wasn't for Cara I would withdraw my decision," she said in a harsh whisper. Glozelle looked annoyed, but offered no reply.

"We will go too." Mumbles turned into gasps as Prunaprismia with her child in her arms and an important few surrounding her made their way towards Aslan.

Aslan looked kindly on the newly formed group of travelers. "Because you have spoken first, your future in that world shall be good."

Both Catalina and Glozelle would forever remember that way Aslan's breathe danced across their features and covered them in a blanket of warmth. At the same moment, the sound of splitting timber ricocheted across the valley and through the courtyard. All watched in amazement as the gnarly tree situated behind Aslan began to twist until it split apart to reveal a hole the size of a doorway.

Glozelle stepped forward first, his footfalls trailed by Prunaprismia and her small group. Catalina glanced quickly to Cara, a small smile gracing her features. "See you soon," she stated softly before moving towards the gateway between the tree.

Before the group had even reached the swell of the tree's roots, they were gone. A gasp of fear and disbelief wafted around the assembled group, even Caspian stared with wide, stunned eyes. Without warning the mumbles and huffs turned into jeers and shouts of protest. "How do we know he is not leading us to our death?" cried a voice from way in the back. Sounds of alarm and agreement quickly followed.

Aslan ignored the taunts and turned to Peter. Understanding his intent, Peter nodded in reply before looking steadily to Caspian. Slowly he walked towards that young man that was now King and without any words or grand announcement, pulled Rhindon from its sheath and placed it in Caspian's hands.

Caspian grasped the sword tightly to his chest. "I will look after your Kingdom."

"It's your Kingdom now," Peter responded with a sad smile.

With one last nod and a firm grasp to Caspian's shoulder, Peter returned his attention to Cara. Her face was calmer and her demeanor less shaken, but the hesitation in her eyes pulled at Peter's heart. Slowly he reached his hand towards her, every piece of him praying that she would close the gap between them and trust in his earlier declaration.

He _would_ find her.

Cara looked wistfully at the landscape beyond the tree. Could she never again run through the rolling hills of the valley, or dance among the willowy dryads and cloven hoofed fauns? Could she forgo ever riding Alvaro again or looking up at the stars where she knew Altair was watching? Could she say goodbye to Narnia forever with nothing but the simple hope that Peter could find her amongst the chaos of a whole new world?

Carefully she returned her gaze to Peter. He was beautiful in the mid-morning light. The sun reflected off of his golden head, and his eyes glowed in an unusually bright blue. Whispers and memories from their stolen moments together filled Cara's mind; their first kiss under the flickering light of a nearby torch; the vision of Peter's face that kept her strong while she battled for her life deep within the very walls that surrounded them now; the fear and pride that filled her heart as she watched Peter battle Miraz for the glory of Narnia, and finally the sound of his voice and tears as he covered her with his love on what both believed would be the last night together.

But was he enough?

"Yes," Cara whispered; the answer so quiet that only she could hear it. Suddenly all hesitation slipped away, and with a few confident steps, Cara placed her hand securely in Peter's and smiled. A shaky sigh passed Peter's lips as his fingers grasped tightly to hers.

They didn't have forever, and only Aslan knew how long they would be apart and what new adventures the journey would take them on, but what they did have was a promise that someday, possibly beyond oceans and Kingdoms and time, they would be together again.

And that promise was more than enough.

_GAH! I can't believe FTE is actually over, but YES, as I'm sure some of you are wondering, there will be a sequel. I hope that the majority of you are not disappointed with the ending. This is what I had planned from the very beginning, as the next story is the one that I really wanted to write because it gives me *almost* full control over the storyline. I plan on going back through FTE and fixing it up a bit before starting on the sequel, but I hope to have the first chapter posted soon, so keep a look out! Cheers to everyone that read, reviewed, alerted, and favorited. I enjoyed writing this immensely, and all of your comments and criticisms helped to keep me motivated and better my writing. I truly cannot thank you enough! Much love!_


	28. Author's Note

Hey everyone! I've had numerous people ask about the sequel and when it will be posted. I just wanted to assure all of you that it will be soon. I'm shooting for this coming weekend. I had the majority of the chapter written three weeks ago, and my computer died, and I lost it. Needless to say, it's taken a little while to get a new computer and get back on the right track. I will post another alert on here when I have it up.

Thanks again to everyone that has read/reviewed/every other form of support! I truly have the most amazing readers!


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